


There and Back with you. And you, and you

by Dandelionquake



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Game of Thrones (Video Game 2014)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, BAMF Jon Snow, BAMF Sansa Stark, Divergent Timelines, F/F, F/M, Gen, Ghosts, Jon Snow Has Dragons, Jon Snow is Not Called Aegon, M/M, Post 8x3, Show centric, The Knight of the Laughing Tree, Valyrian Steel Swords, Wargs (ASoIaF), time travel fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-01-30 17:14:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21431827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dandelionquake/pseuds/Dandelionquake
Summary: The Long Night Came, humanity fought bravely, humanity fought hard humanity lost. The Old Gods in a desprite move sent Jon Snow back to change things before the long night can take hold. With him are Seven other each representing a member of the Seven Faced god but are they all friends?
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Jon Snow & Samwell Tarly, Jon Snow & Sansa Stark, Margaery Tyrell & Willas Tyrell, Myrcella Baratheon & Jaime Lannister, Myrcella Baratheon & Tommen Baratheon, Robert "Sweetrobin" Arryn & Tommen Baratheon, Sansa Stark & Catelyn Stark, Sansa Stark & Margaery Tyrell, Sansa Stark/Willas Tyrell, Willas Tyrell & Oberyn Martell
Comments: 80
Kudos: 298





	1. The Champion I

Jon sucked in a deep breath. Looking around he realized he had no idea where he was. The last thing he remembered was readying himself to be overwhelmed by dragon fire while facing down the dead dragon. The one named after Dany’s brother. His uncle. Not his… father. He needed to get his bearings. This is not what it looked like the last time he died. Although it was a very different way for him to leave this world. The last time all he felt was the coldness of the blade, all he saw was darkness. This time all he saw was white light and none of the heat he expected.

Everything was white. Standing up he instantly recognized the scene. It was the day that his father allowed them to bring the Direwolves back to Winterfell. His siblings were all so young. He was so young. The pups were so little. His father was actually alive! He was back in his own five and ten body. But the peculiar thing was… everything was white, white like milk. His siblings, the counters, the wall, the only splash of color in the entire line of sight was Ghost’s eyes. His companion trotted over and sniffed him before pawing him to be lifted up. Jon tried not to chuckle as through their bond he could feel the wolf’s annoyance at being as small as he was once again.

“What is going on Ghost…?” Jon asked his partner rhetorically. 

“If you wanted to know, all you needed to do was ask.” A feminine voice sounded behind him. Jon shot up and came face to face with a woman. Actually that was not fair. She was hardly more than a girl. Jon would put her at no more than five and ten. And judging by the way she looked very much like Arya he knew there was only one person it could be.

“Mother?”

“Hello my sweet brave boy.” She said, cupping his check. Something that was not very easy seeing as she was about an inch or two shorter than the fully grown Arya herself. 

“I don’t understand…” Jon said looking around in shock.

“We do not have much time.” Lyanna said. She walked and smiled as his fath… his unc… her older brother walked in to talk to him sib… cousins. “The old gods have given us an opportunity, so that you can complete your mission.”

“My mission?” 

“To stop the White Walkers.” Lyanna said with urgency. “They were not supposed to get as far as they did. They feel as if it was their fault. And your father’s.”

“I don’t understand.”

“This will go a lot easier if you do not ask questions every time I say something.” Lyanna snarked, almost snapping, at him allowing Jon to see why people gave her the name She-Wolf. “The gods left enough hints to allow the realms of men to see what was coming, however your father read too much into it. His attempts to stop what was coming consequences be dammed is what caused the rebellion. The rebellion caused wounds that were unable to heal and that is what led to the War of the Five Kings. While everyone was squabbling over that chair, He grew stronger. They are going to send you back. Back to before everything started to collapse.”

“So I am supposed to stop a war?” Jon asked incredulously. “Everyone thinks I am just a bastard and a half a child at that.”

Lyanna flinched at his statement, before allowing her face to soften. “I have faith in you Aemon. Your father did many things wrong but he was right about one thing. You are the Song of Ice and Fire. This is your destiny.”

“Aemon?” Jon asked.

“It is the name I gave you.” Lyanna said, “Your father though you to be a girl, but I had a feeling you were to be a boy. It was a lucky coincidence seeing how close you became to your Uncle at the wall.”

“Bran said…”

“Bran… your Bran…” Lyanna said, and Jon could see the guilt on her face. He was sure he had the same look whenever he thought of Rickon. It was then that he realized quite how much he looked like his mother, opposed to his… Eddard Stark. “He saw me after I was half delirious with a fever and blood loss. I would not have named you something your brother was already named.” As Jon Flinched at her words she snapped, “Don’t you dare blame yourself! I swear you brood worse than Ned!”

“I am sorry.” Jon said and the entire room shook.

“Please don’t be, sweetling. But we are running out of time. The old gods are using much of what is left of their strength to do this after their conduit in the mortal realm was slain.”

It took a moment before Jon realized what or more importantly who she was speaking about. “Bran!”

“Your brother will be fine if you are able to stop Him.” It did not go unnoticed by Jon that she avoided using the Night King’s name for the second time. “They will not be able to help much more. They will be too weak. That includes Greenseeing!” Lyanna said, all of her words coming out in one breath. Jon then noticed she started fading away.

“NO!”

Lyanna smiled and cradled his face again. “I am sorry. You will have companions, they will represent the seven’s champions. The Father, the Maiden, the Warrior and all the other rubbish.”

“What? Why?” Jon said. This entire thing was going way too quickly. His entire life he wanted to know his mother and now that he had the opportunity it was fading much too quickly. 

“I do not know why the old gods do as they do. And to think I wished that you would have to spend less time with Cuntlyn. But the gods are cruel.”

“What does that mean? Did she come back? Please!” Jon said, grabbing his mother’s hands.

“Goodbye, my son.” Lyanna said, a ghost of tears coming from her eyes. “Never doubt I love you more than life itself.”

“No!” Jon said, but it came out more as a whimper. Lyanna Stark-Targaryen had faded out of his sight as color came back to his world and for the first time in either existence he heard Ghost let out a howl, causing his littermates to join with their new and unused squeaky voices.

“That’s amazing!” Arya said letting out an unladylike squeal. “What are you going to name your wolf Jon?”

But Jon could not help but ignore her question. He was much more preoccupied looking at the seventh Direwolf pup.


	2. Champion II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon adjusts to his time in the past and meets new allies

It had been only a few hours since he had woken up in this new timeline. While much was the same he could not put his finger on what was wrong. Well, what was wrong besides the feeling of not being comfortable in his own skin. He was a man grown used to a grown body. Not the body of a boy who was still growing. His odd stretches had not gone unnoticed by his father, Arya nor Robb. While none of them had said anything he knew they wanted to.

No, there were little things out of place. The servants were preparing for King Robert’s arrival however it was the mad scramble that they did when it was coming close to the deadline. Not a feast that they had numerous weeks to prepare for. The only benefit was that “Cuntlyn” (as his mother gracefully referred to her as) was too busy dealing with the servants and preparing the feast that she did not have time to harass him. That is not even mentioning the giant bruise that was fading off of Bran’s face.

Jon was a little more than worried about his broth… cousin. He would do his best to avoid what had happened with Jaime and the broken tower, but what if he couldn’t? Bran already lost his greensight. Would the weakened Old Gods mean that he would also lose his Warging? He knew he and most of his sib… cousins were wargs as well if not as strong as Bran. Would this effect that as well? He still felt a connection to Ghost, or was he just imagining it? Would a crippled Bran be able to survive without his abilities?

“Jon!” Arya shouted finally gaining her brother’s attention. She was another who was changed by whatever was effecting this timeline. She seemed much calmer opposed to the endless ball of energy that he remembered. Nor was she fidgeting with the skirt of her dress like normal. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Sorry. I spaced out.” Jon said with a shrug.

“I asked if you were going to be there when the Kingsl… Lord Jaime arrives this evening?” Arya said, correcting herself of the nickname as she looked around as if worried about being reprimanded. Then in a conspirative whisper she added, “Mother did not say anything to you did she?”

“Uh… no. I will be there.” Jon said. Then realized what she said. Jaime Lannister was coming to Winterfell. That was one thing he could be sure was off so far. Could Jaime Lannister have been his first companion? He did not know much about the Seven but he knew they had the Warrior? Could that be who he represented? Or maybe oh gods… The Father? He could only know once the rest of the group showed themselves. “So who do you think he’s bringing with him?” He asked, hoping to get more details so he could piece things together.

However he may have had a misstep as his younger sister gave him a look that remarkably looked like father when he and Robb came back from a brothel and Jon claimed he did not do anything uncord with them. “The Princess….” She said to him as if he were a complete lackwit. 

Although this did help slightly. It allowed him to know that the King would not be joining the group as that is probably what Arya would have led with. If he was bringing just the Princess that meant one of two things: either Myrcella was coming to foster with his fath… uncle or she was betrothed to a Stark which came with its own fostering. Either way, it had to be suggested by someone who had made it to the past. Then he realized that Lyanna had implied Catelyn Tully was coming back so that didn’t narrow down to people who were around when the White Walkers attacked. So maybe Myrcella Hill was the one who made it to the past?

“Well I know that!” Jon said playing it off. “But no matter how good Ser Jaime was… is I doubt he’s escorting the Princess of the realm by herself! I mean do you think any other famous knights may come? I meant who else other than the princess.”

“Arya!” Sansa’s voice cried out. Jon sighed, as close as he and Sansa had become he was not looking forward to Sansa before she went to Kingslanding. She seemed to realize that she was interrupting and said “Oh excuse me brother. Septa Mordane is looking for you.”

Arya groaned and threw her head back dramatically and Jon tried not to laugh at the youth she showed. He would do everything in his power to make sure that she did not go through faceless man training, not this time. “Fine.” She grumbled before walking away and that’s when he noticed her skirt. 

At first look it was just a more flowing skirt than most in the north were used to. Much too old for someone Arya’s age to wear. And it was much cleaner than a skirt Arya would typically wear. Then Jon notice it was not a skirt. It was trousers. The flowiness of the skirt made it hard to notice, Lady Catelyn probably hadn’t, but it was a skirt his sister could run around and play in. No, what really bothered him was he had seen this skirt before. On Daenerys’ translator Missandei.

“That’s an… interesting, skirt little sister.” Jon said, trying to figure at how to broach the subject. 

“Oh yeah!” She said beaming. “Sansa made it for me.”

He looked at the older of his sisters and noticed that she was meeting his eye. Not something she would have done as easily at this moment in time. More specifically she was looking at his left eye where the scar was in his old body. She made Arya the skirt, she called him brother, “Sansa…” he whispered as Arya started to do a childish skip away. “Do you… remember?”

Instead of shock, or confusion a look of cold fury passed over his sister’s face. Grabbing his forearm she dragged her older brother to her chambers while no one else was looking. “Are you serious!” She hissed, “Two impassionate speeches about bastards, dozens of hours spent together, a trip over my mother’s knee and an argument with Arya about stealing her favorite brother and a bloody skirt is how you figure it out! I didn’t think you were this…”

“What?” Jon said, holding his hands up to get her to calm down. “I don’t remember any of… how long have you been back?”

Sansa looked taken aback at his statement as she realized the implications. “Three moons.” She said, then with horror in her voice she added, “How long…”

“Three hours.” He said, answering her unfinished question. She threw her arms around his neck in joy.

“Thank the gods!” She said, reminding Jon of another hug they had like this. “I thought I might just be going mad!”

“I’m guessing no one else came back?” he asked gently.

“Not in Winterfell.” She said, “Although I am sure that Jaime Lannister did.”

“Yeah that makes sense. He’s bringing the Princess up?”

“Yes and he also resigned from the Kingsguard.” She said, Jon tried to let go but she held him like a vice grip. “Rumor says he only agreed to his father’s demand if he could pick his own bride. So guess who is coming with him?” She finished slyly.

“His new wife?” Jon said, as if it were obvious.

“Ugh, you really are oblivious sometimes brother.” Sansa said, finally letting go. He could practically hear the eye roll. “It’s Brienne!”

“Oh.” Jon said, then before he could stop himself “She implied your mother came back too.”

“She?” Sansa said, cocking her head to the side in a way that Jon wondered where she picked it up.

“Uh… before I came back the Old Gods spoke to me.” Jon said before explaining the details of what he was told.

“Ok, I truly cannot be surprised anymore. But who was she.” Sansa said as she cocked an eyebrow. She was sharp as ever despite the youthful body and she picked up on the fact he was deliberately voiding mention of her.

“An avatar that they knew I would recognize.” Jon said simply.

“Oh… was it Ygritte?” She whispered realizing that he was avoiding it was because it was painful.

“No… It was my mother.” He said, leaving it at that.

After a pregnant pause he asked, “You aren’t going to ask about her?” The mystery behind his mother was a big deal within the family. Everyone speculated; even Sansa at this age.

“No. It is none of my business.” She said, “When you are ready you’ll tell me. Even if that day never comes.”

Jon smiled and kissed her forehead. Which was much easier since he was now taller than her again. “Thank you… Did your mother really put you over her knee?”

Sansa groaned and planted her face in his shoulder, “Not you too! Arya just stopped and I had to bribe her with the skirt! If you join in I will never hear the end of it!”

Jon chuckled, “What happened?”

“It’s much harder to control emotions in this body.” she said. “All the hormones and impulsive behavior of a near child. I had one to many arguments with my mother about you.” 

“Good to know ahead of time.” Jon said, a sly grin forming on his face.

“Oh go ahead and laugh.” She grumbled. “You’ll see! Especially when it comes to attraction!”

Jon’s nose crinkled as his little sister changed the topic. He did not want to hear her talking about this. Especially not in this body. However, Sansa realized and pounced on his discomfort. 

“Oh yes, just yesterday Jory walked passed me after his training and despite his sweat he smelt amazing. Or Theon had his shirt off for you all to get haircuts, and talk about cut.” She said waggling her eyebrows exactly how Arya does. “And Jeyne bent over to pick something…”

Sansa gasped and covered her mouth as she realized she said too much, and started babbling as she tried to walk it back. “I mean to say…”

“Sansa, I know. After everything we’re been through together, I don’t care.” He said, interlocking their fingers. If she desired members of the same sex who was he to care. Especially now that Bran, Robb and Rickon could help repopulate House Stark. She should be happy and she has the opportunity if she desired.

“Truly?” She asked, showing a level of insecurity that he’s never seen before at any age.

“Yes.” He said pulling her into a side hug and he could practically feel the smile.

“How’d you know?” she asked out of curiosity.

“You were not a subtle looking at Lady Cierah Stout as you’d like to believe.” He said with a knowing smile. Remembering the times they spent together to rebuild the North after Ramsey’s disastrous rule.

“None the less,” Sansa said, putting on her Lady of the North face “We do have to figure out who the others who came back are.”

“And what role they play.” Jon said. “You’re obviously the Maiden.”

Sansa’s face grew stormy, before she started stuttering. “J- Jon. After everything h- he did to me…” 

Jon grimaced as he realized that just because his little sister did not talk about her ordeals did not mean that they no longer affected her. He made a mental note to make sure she knew she had an ear to talk to after this.

“Ok.” He said as Sansa wrote down the names of the seven faces. “You could put your mother’s name next to Crone.”

“That’s not how the Crone works in the Seven.” Sansa snapped, before sighing. “I know you both have your issues but please. This will never work if the two of you do not get along. She still is my mother.”

Jon sighed and sat down, realizing that he may have crossed a line. Robb and Arya used to let him get away with it because they saw first had how Catelyn treated him. Sansa was much more protective of their mother and he would need to keep that in mind.

“Alright. It won’t happen again. You have my word.” He said, “It doesn’t help that not everyone came in at the same time.”

“Yes.” She said, writing down ‘Jaime Lannister’ next to the Warrior followed by a question mark.

“And we can eliminate Father from the running. My mother would have mentioned him before she mentioned your mother.” Jon said.

“That makes sense.” Sansa said, “Jaime may be the father and Brienne the Warrior? I don’t see her agreeing to marry the obnoxiousness of Jaime Lannister without everything they’ve been through.” Sansa smiled sadly at the stories between Brienne told her about Jaime and Brienne’s journeys together and the real reason Jaime slew the mad King.

“Maybe the Maiden could be your friend Margaery?” Jon asked remembering that she seemed to be the only person Sansa talked about in a positive light during her time in Kingslanding. “Didn’t they call her Maid Margaery?”

Sansa burst out laughing. “I’m sorry brother.” She said, seeing the look upon his face. “Margaery was no maiden. Trust me on that! It is probably best that she isn’t back though. I loved her like the older sister I always wanted but you could never know what she, her grandmother and the rest of her family was planning.” 

“Well, if it is not you, it’s not Margaery and obviously they need a connection to one of us…” Jon said, he led before writing the only maiden he knew at the time of his death next to it.

Sansa looked at the name of their little sister in the maiden column before giving Jon a wolf like smile. She met his eyes and crossed out her name with two dark lines. It took Jon a moment before his face darkened.

“Are you serious!” Jon snapped. “Who! When!”

“The night of the attack.” She said, “And it was with Gendry the Blacksmith.”

“Gendry!” He shouted causing Sansa to cover his mouth.

“Yes, Gendry!” She said, “Gendry who she escaped Kingslanding with and spent three years together on the run. He’s as much her family as you consider Sam family.”

“Well he never mentioned that!” Jon grumbled, but let it go. “What’s all this?”

He pulled a stack of papers out of a desk drawer and saw many names written on them and with them lines to other names. All of a sudden Sansa looked guilty for the first time post them re meeting up. “Well you see…”

The pair was interrupted by screaming out in the halls and the cousins charged out into the hall. “What’s going on?” Sansa asked a nearby Maid as a force collided with the back of Jon’s knees.

“Mother’s gone mad!” Bran whispered from behind Jon. “She just started screaming and then she grabbed Rickon and Arya and started dragging them around! She’s looking for the rest of- oomph!”

Bran ducked back behind Jon’s legs as Catelyn Tully came into the hall way. She was holding Rickon to her breast and was dragging Arya around by her wrist. She let out a whimper and charged her oldest daughter wrapping three of her children in a hug, babbling out apologies and kissing foreheads.

Jon cocked an eyebrow at Sansa sarcastically, and she rolled her eyes to let him know she knew exactly what he was thinking. ‘I think she remembers’.

“Bran!” Catelyn shouted seeing him behind Jon. She pushed the man in the boy’s body out of the way as she scooped up her son in a hug “_veyouiloveyouiloveyou_”__

_ _“Has Mother gone mad?” Arya whispered to her older brother._ _

_ _“No… I don’t…” Jon began before Catelyn screeched,_ _

_ _“What in the seven hells happened to your face?” Jon cocked an eyebrow as he had been wondering the same thing._ _

_ _Bran looked at his mother with a questioning look before saying, “Mother… don’t you remember?” at the blank look she gave him he said, “Sansa slapped me. Hard!”_ _

_ _“What!” Catelyn snapped spinning around, anger flashing in her eyes._ _

_ _“He had been climbing, Mother.” Sansa said shrugging. Then with a pointed look she added “Only the gods would know what would happen if he fell.”_ _

_ _Catelyn looked confused for a moment before she stiffened in realization at what he eldest daughter was saying. “Give me a moment with your sister, sweetlings. If you see your brother tell him to come to my solar please.”_ _

_ _As the youngest of the Stark brood left Catelyn tried to herd Sansa into her bedchambers. Jon rolled his eyes as he followed them. “This doesn’t involve you, Bastard.” She spat._ _

_ _Before Sansa could inform her of Jon’s travel, his temper got the better of him. After everything that he has been through in the last eight years he was not about to let Catelyn Tully intimidate him. “What’s the last thing you remember Lady Catelyn? The knife. How did it feel when the knife first entered your throat, I’m sure it hurt at first but also it felt uncomfortable almost like a splinter. Not so much that it hurt but more like it just didn’t belong under your skin. But as the knife traveled I am sure all you could feel is the coldness of the blade. How did it feel, knowing that you taking Tyrion led to everything that came after?”_ _

_ _“Jon!” Sansa said, almost pleading with him to get along with her mother, as she looked as she was physically slapped. She also looked pained at the fact that Jon finally after almost two years together finally talked about his ordeal after the mutiny._ _

_ _“Now are you done with you predigests or can we begin working on how to fix everything!” Jon snapped finally and a cowed Catelyn Tully let him in the room._ _

_ _After a moment she spoke. “What happened? How is this possible?”_ _

_ _“Long story short?” Sansa said, “The Others returned and we lost so the old gods sent us and five others back to stop it from happening. Those who were sent back represent one of the new gods.”_ _

_ _“The others….” Catelyn deadpanned, eyes darting between to two._ _

_ _“Aye, maybe we should start at the beginning.”_ _

_ _

_ _An hour later Catelyn looked as though she were trying not to cry just from the shear thought of what happened to her children, the pure anger at Jon being elected King of the North and the threat that they faced. Jon glared to let his cousin know that he picked up on the fact that Sansa left out the worst parts of what happened to herself._ _

_ _“We have to tell your father!” Catelyn finally said after a few moments of silence._ _

_ _“We can’t.” Jon said, simply. “The Old gods sent us back, if they had wanted others they would have sent them.”_ _

_ _“Well did your mother say we couldn’t” Sansa asked, glancing at her own for a moment._ _

_ _“His mother?” Catelyn said, and Jon had to give her credit for at least attempting to keep the fury out of her voice._ _

_ _“Yes, the old gods took me to a weird plain of existence and spoke through my mother.” Jon sighed. “She was the one that told me what the eight of us need to do.”_ _

_ _“Well I am obviously the mother.” Catelyn said, trying to change the subject from the person she hated most in both existences. “If only because I do not fit any other of the Seven.”_ _

_ _“Aye that’s what we were thinking.” Jon said, “We also think that Jaime is the Warrior or Father.”_ _

_ _Catelyn nodded her head but looked angry at the thought of the man who pushed her son out of a window. “It is doubtful about the Father. That man would not know justice if it bit him on the… An- And what about you Sansa? I feel like I barely know you. This new you.”_ _

_ _“Me, I am probably supposed to be the Crone seeing as I continue to give wise advise, even if it is not followed.” Sansa said, passive-aggressively._ _

_ _“Is this about Daenerys again?” Jon said, closing his eyes in annoyance. At the head nod he went into his speech that he seemed to be saying more and more as of late. “I told you, it doesn’t matter who holds what title! The Night King is coming! We cannot stop him alone!”_ _

_ _“Bullshit.” Sansa said, almost so quiet that Jon did not hear her. Jon recoiled in surprise at the first time that he heard his sister curse._ _

_ _“Sansa!” Catelyn said, scandalized at her daughter’s language._ _

_ _“I am sorry but it is.” Sansa said, gaining confidence as she spoke. “Yes, you are right Jon. The Night King is coming and We cannot stop him by ourselves. Also he and his army do not care who holds what title. But the people who will be fighting him will be. They are actual people and if the right people are not in place how in the seven hells are we supposed to mount an actual defense? Do you think people will want to follow someone like Joffrey? We need a leader like you! Not Tywin, Cersei or Ramsey or Daenerys or…”_ _

_ _“Or?” Jon said, hoping that she wasn’t going where she thought she was._ _

_ _“Or Robb.” She said sadly._ _

_ _“Sansa!” Catelyn snapped with the venom in her voice that was usually reserved for Jon._ _

_ _“I’m sorry mother you and Robb did not deserve what happened to you at the Twins but that does not mean Robb was a good leader. He was a good strategist yes, but he was awful at everything else!” Sansa said, and Jon knew she had been holding this in since her time in the capital. “He didn’t listen to anyone about Theon, he broke his oath when he married the nurse leaving a huge chuck of his army unsupported and instead of liberating his people from the foreign invaders he decided to go take another crack at Tywin Lannister. We need a leader who knows what sacrifice for your people is. Something Jon and I learned the hard way.”_ _

_ _“And I suppose you have someone in mind to be the new king?” Catelyn asked sarcastically, not taking the insult against Robb lightly; even if -deep down- she agreed._ _

_ _“Yes, Jon.” Sansa said, as if it were obvious causing Jon’s entire body to scream. He did not want to be king. Not of the North not of the Seven Kingdoms. Why people seemed to force this down his throat he would never know._ _

_ _Jon had to start giving her more credit. Catelyn was obviously holding back her contempt for him to speak calmly and fairly. “I am sure he was a good king but even still, he is a bastard. How are we going to get people to follow him?”_ _

_ _“Where Jon goes people follow! I’ve seen it!” Sansa said showing her faith in her brother. She then moving the papers from earlier to the desk. “Also I have a plan. It’s just a skeleton of a plan but it is still a plan. I… learned that it’s better not to have plans to set in stone because you never know how people or the gods will react and change things.”_ _

_ _Jon grimaced at what was obviously a lesson from Littlefinger but continued. “Speaking about not knowing how thing can turn out. I am not a bastard.”_ _

_ _“What!” Both mother and daughter shouted and Jon was slightly taken aback at the literal identical looks of disbelief shot his way._ _

_ _“Bran… did Bran things and found out the truth.” Jon said, and Sansa gave him a sympathetic smile. She had to deal with his cryptic ways more than anyone other than Meera. “He had Sam tell me the night before the battle.”_ _

_ _“How!” Catelyn opened her mouth to say something truly nasty but thought better of it. “Ned and I were, are, we’re married. How can you not be a… Brandon. You are Brandon’s son. I knew he would not be faithful but to… ”_ _

_ _“No, I am Lyanna Stark’s son.” Jon said, and he could see the way both women’s minds worked until they realized who his father must’ve been._ _

_ _“So you are actually the rightf…” Catelyn said, before she actually realized what it meant._ _

_ _“Actually a Targaryen, yes.” Jon snapped before they could go down this road. He did not want to be a god’s dammed king._ _

_ _“But you should be King!” Catelyn said, “Robert claimed right by Blood. If you truly are Rhaegar’s true born son…”_ _

_ _“Then it certainly makes things make more sense… and easier.” Sansa said, rifling around in a hole in her wall “and it makes me really glad I grabbed… This!”_ _

_ _Catelyn and Jon gaped at the Blue and Gold dragon egg that Sansa pulled from her wall. “Sansa where in the fuck did you get that?” Jon said and Catelyn was in such a shock that she did not even find offense in his foul language._ _

_ _“The night of the Siege numerous Starks were rising from their graves. This was in the Grave of Rickon Stark father of Creagan.” Sansa said, “Probably from the Pact of Ice and Fire and Jacaerys Targaryen. I figured that if you could ride a dragon, you could hatch a dragon. That was before I knew that you had Targaryen blood.”_ _

_ _Jon smiled at the way Sansa worded what she said, making sure he knew she still considered him a Stark. “I appreciate it but I don’t know how.”_ _

_ _“But I do.” She said, giving a devilish grin._ _

_ _“Why? How?” Catelyn and Jon said at the same time._ _

_ _“Bran told me Justin case we needed it.” Sansa said, deliberately not looking Jon in the eyes. “I don’t care you said she was our ally. We need to be able fight every battle at any time. Everyone is an enemy until they aren’t or they are taken care of.”_ _

_ _Jon pinched the bridge of his nose at the new sliver of wisdom from Littlefinger as Catelyn’s jaw dropped at how cold her daughter had become in the political realm._ _

_ _“But I don’t want it!” Jon said, feeling like he had been saying that a lot too. “Dany….”_ _

_ _“Jon please just for once listen to me!” Sansa snapped. “Between Joffrey, Cersei, Littlefinger, Lysa and Ramsey…”_ _

_ _“Why is your Aunt on this list?”_ _

_ _“…I have learned how to be the real people behind the mask. What I saw with Daenerys I saw with the others. Please just listen to me!” Sansa said almost begging._ _

_ _“Ok.” Jon said, seeing the despite look behind his cousin’s eyes. He submitted to where Sansa thrived and asked “What’s next. Politics aren’t really my forte.”_ _

_ _“You’re better at them than you think you are.” Sansa said giving him a small smile. “But I do think that the best thing to do next is talk to Father.”_ _

_ _“If you both think it’s for the best.” Jon said, slowly. The old gods sent him back with others for a reason. He knew he should take their advice. “Then let’s go.”_ _

_ _“Good, maybe he could arrange a betrothal before the king gets here. That way I am not betrothed to the little… you know what.” Sansa said, glancing at her mother and making Jon chuckle._ _

_ _“No Theon.” He said, semi-serious. Catelyn looked at Sansa in shock and horror at the fact Sansa gave a half frown indicating that she was considering it._ _

_ _“Fine, I have another idea but don’t you think that you are getting out of a betrothal as well, or Robb either.” Sansa said, causing Jon to grimace. She then continued to tease him. “I have a couple names that you could be getting married too, Brother! Don’t worry they are all very pretty”_ _

_ _“I guess I will trust your judgement.” Jon sighed._ _

_ _“Before we go…” Catelyn said, she was looking at their list from earlier. “Why is Arya crossed off the Maiden?” She said her voice going up a few octaves._ _

_ _Both Sibling-Cousins exchanged a look before bursting out laughing._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So since the first couple chapters will not be in chronological order and are mostly prewritten, I will ask who wants to see what first Stranger I, Crone I, Father I or Maiden I. No I will not be revealing who is what until the chapter is released but I encourage guessing!


	3. Stranger I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the events of their death in the original timeline, the Stranger is going to make sure that the Lannisters do not get any alliances to strengthen their position

Margaery shot up in her bed as she felt the flames completely envelop her. The Sparrow being vaporized in a second. The force just feeling as if all the air left her lungs, she couldn’t get the look of… She shot out of bed looking for a wine bottle, luckily finding one that Elinor hadn’t help her finish.

“It was just a nightmare. It was just a nightmare.” She said to herself, hands shaking as she poured a glass of wine. More of it ended up splashing onto her hand and trailing down her glass than in it but it would suffice for the moment. “Cersei’s trial is tomorrow. She can’t hurt me. She can’t hurt anyone.”

After two downed glasses she looked in the mirror and dropped her glass in shock. She was a child again. Maybe fourteen or fifteen, still a maiden (well, as much as one can be with a broken maidenhead) and most importantly in Highgarden. Had it all been a dream? Renly, Tommen, Joffrey, the War of the Five Kings, Sansa, Cersei, Tyrion’s trial, the Militant. It doesn’t make any sense.

No, it made plenty of sense. Mira had been homesick and started telling stories of the North last night and Margaery’s over-active imagination must have run wild. She knew Renly and she wanted to become Queen. It had all just come together as a fantastic and hopefully unrealistic story. “Yes,” She told herself, “That is a much more realistic and believable explanation!”

Despite all of what she told herself, she was not calming down. She needed… she needed… she snuck out of her room and tried to figure out where to go. Loras was in… Kingslanding? Storm’s End? Either way he was not in Highgarden. Garlan was married and she was not about to force Leonette to share her marriage bed with her husband’s little sister and the same probably applied to her parents. As much as she was her grandmother’s favorite, she was most likely to be snapped at and told to stop acting like a child.

Padding down the hall as quietly as possible she rapped on the door a quick three times before slipping into Willas’ room. Willas was probably the best person in the family despite what her second brother’s nickname was. He’d have no problem letting her sleep in his bed as if she were a little girl again.

“Psst!” She hissed walking around to his right side as to not harm his leg.

“Margi?” Her older brother groaned confused. She tried to not be annoyed at her juvenile nickname.

“Can... Would you mind…?” She started too embarrassed to actually let out what she was going to say. Willas gave her a sympathetic smile and threw back her blankets to allow Margaery to slip into his side.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked, as he pulled her into his side, arm around her waist. He was more than a little concerned. She hadn’t sleep in his bed with him like this since she was little enough to be picked up and plopped on his hip.

“Not really.”

“Are you sure Margi?” He said, and she could feel the concern in his voice. “I’ve never seen you this shaken. Ever.”

“I’m fine.” She said, starting to get annoyed she just wanted to go to sleep. “Honestly.”

“When I say I have never seen you this shaken I was not speaking metaphorically. You are literally shaking.” He asked and then a little more timidly he said, “Did someone…”

“No!” she said, scandalized that _that’s_ where his mind would go to so quickly. “It was just a bad dream!”

“Ok.” Her older brother said, after a few moments of silence where she didn’t calm down, he continued. “What was it about?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She grumbled into his shoulder.

“Yes. Most people who don’t want to talk about something usually seek out someone immediately.” He said, deadpanning sarcasm.

“Can we just- Willas!” She began before Willas jammed his finger into her side. “No tickling!”

Her older brother laughed at the immediate and audible panic in her voice. Her mother had to ban her older brothers from tickling her after they (Garlan) went too far last time. (If she found out which Maid gave Loras and Garlan those smallclothes to hang from a banner she’ll rip out their hair!) So, for Willas to tickle her and risk their mother wraith must’ve meant that he was truly worried about her.

“Willas!” She exclaimed again as he grabbed her sides with another bout. Even as she tried to get away, she found she couldn’t. His leg might’ve been damaged, but his upper body was fine; and it was doing a good job of holding her down with no problem.

“You can tell me what is bothering you or I can keep going?” Willas said.

“It was just a dream Willas!” She said, rolling her eyes. At another poke she let out a giggle and said, “OK, ok.”

Taking a deep breath she started. “I died. You died. All of us died! It all started because Jon Arryn died, poisoned but it was made to look like a fever. Then Eddard Stark became hand, King Robert died, and then Stark was executed as a traitor. The entire realm fell into chaos! Three men dying caused the realm to fall apart.”

“The Big three twats.” Willas asked, using her grandmother’s… colorful nickname for the three that overthrew the Targaryen’s. “Their alliance is what is keeping most of the country together. I can see things devolving into chaos once they are all gone.”

“Loras and Renly tried to get Robert to put Cersei aside for me before he died. Then Stannis claimed he was the rightful king because Robert’s kids weren’t his. Then Renly did before Stannis killed him and Stark’s son tried to succeed from the kingdoms. Followed by Balon Greyjoy again. I married Robert incestuous shit of a son who died and then his next one and Cersei Lannister killed us all.” Margaery said, realizing tears were trailing down her face. “That’s not even getting into what the Faith Militant did to Loras! He… they…”

“Margi, it was just a dream.” Willas said, tightening his grip on his youngest sibling. “The Lannister’s, the Baratheon’s, the Stark’s nor the Faith can hurt you now. Even if they wanted to, I would not let them. Father would not let them.”

“Thank you.” She said nestling into his shoulder once more. “I love you Willas…”  
~~~  
The next morning was fairly nice, after the initial panic of not being able to find Margaery. All of the servants and guards bustling around woke them up quite abruptly and if they didn’t succeed than their mother Alerie bursting in about her missing daughter definitely did. After that the breaking of their fast was actually pretty nice, even if Grandmother was glaring daggers at him.

“My Lord,” Maester Lomys called shuffling in causing Mace Tyrell jump. He held a scroll of parchment above his head. “Grave news!”

Margaery and Grandmother both rolled their eyes. Despite being the Maester to deliver all four Tyrell Children, they were not too keen on how much he kissed their father’s behind. She loved her father, and he did a fantastic job as an administrator for the Reach, but politically savvy he was not. If someone were to give him a compliment, he tended to have his reason obfuscated, (it's how they ended up with Renei Flowers after all).

“What news is that Maester?” He father said, trying to clean the eggs from his shirt.

“Very grave new My Lord. News from the capital which bring bad tidings.” Lomys started before her grandmother snapped.

“We get that you old fool! Now get on with it, you are giving us news not trying to scare children with a horror story.”

“Y- Yes Milady.” Lomys stuttered and Margaery had to try not to smile at the clear fact that the Maester was terrified of her grandmother. She no longer had to try once he continued.

“Our Lord Hand is dead.” He said, and Margaery was suddenly flashed back to this very same scene from her dream. It was almost identical to what was happening right now.

“He died from a fever.” Margaery whispered as the Maester announced it. “It burned through him within a day. There was nothing to be done; he was gone as soon as anyone could get to help him.”

“I’m guessing that King Robert will be heading to Winterfell to get his good friend Eddard Stark to take up the vacancy he left behind?” Margaery said before she could help herself.

“Y- Yes.” Lomys said, brow crinkling at her guess. “How did you…”

“It is quite obvious, Maester.” Margaery said, quickly covering her tracks. It isn’t as if it were outside of the realm of possibilities. It was quite likely actually. Unfortunately, her grandmother was not amused.

“Margaery, Darling…”

“It is just us and Maester Lomys here Grandmother.” Margaery said, almost waving her off but thought better of it. The family had been building up her innocent, naïve maiden persona for a few months now. It would need to be cultivated in order to hook the prince. “May I be excused?”

As she went to her room; she bent of the chamber pot and lost what little of her meal she had. What she saw was real. How many people died? The Weddings, Red and Purple, the Trial. Margaery wouldn’t lie and say her becoming Queen didn’t in the least entice her for the power of the position whatsoever. But she did want to help people and a war would not do so. Even to get her on the throne.

“I’m going to stop it.” She said, to herself. And she truly meant it… for a few moments. But she then realized that she was a child now. Not Queen, not even technically a lady. Willas might believe her but she did not want to drag him into this. She did not want to bring any of her family into this. This is something she needs to figure it out herself.

Maybe she could send out anonymous letters to the other lords and ladies paramount about her future husband's’ parentage? No, it would be to easily tracked back to Highgarden. She now had firsthand experience of what the Queen is capable of when backed into a corner. She was not about to bring that down on her family.

Speaking of her family she was wondering if she should inform one of them. She quickly shook her head as she knew that was a bad idea. At best they’ll think she had a bad dream, at worst… well she remembered what eventually happen to Lolly Stokesworth once her sister died, and she did not need her parents thinking she needed that particular brand of help. Her Grandmother would cut her out of any plans, (_you never could trust the mad! Just look at the war that Aerys started_). Garlan would pander to her but never truly believe her and Willas was too religious to believe. No, she was on her own for now.

For one she needs to kill any thoughts about an alliance between the Tyrells and Baratheons. Stannis is a fanatic, Robert is a drunk, and Renly as much as Loras loved… (loves?) him, he was just a power-hungry station grabber. A second son who tried to steal his brother’s throne. He was the best of all the options and still terrible. She looked at herself in the looking glass again and realized the real version of her at this age would be horrified at her new thought process. But it did not matter her family needed to be alive, she would do anything to make sure that would happen.

Beside it was just as pragmatic and it was honorable. It would throw the entire continent into disarray. Had he won, or if he wins if he is still planning, it would cause a great succession crisis. Any second or third son could decide that they should be their father’s successor and that just could not happen. “It was _pragmatic._” she said trying to convince herself.

~~~

It was a few days before anything of note happened, and Margaery was no closer to figuring out a solution without coming off as a complete lunatic. Her father and grandmother were determined to get her on the throne, and her father was still insecure about the fact that the Tyrells had never been kings. She would never be able to convince them to not marry her to the false king.

She shuffled to break her fast and she received numerous worried looks. The hair that had lost its shine and heavy bags under her eyes. Willas had been asking about her health and she knew that her mother and Garlan were worried as well. Even her father in all his obliviousness was starting to notice. In her defense it was hard to sleep when she was consistently woken up by a bloody dripping seven-pointed star and green fire.

But still she realized that she needed to be back to normal. It would not due for her parents to (May the gods forbid) assume she was pregnant with what seemed to be her mood swings. If they sent her to have Maester to check on her the rumor mill would be relentless. No, she still might need a marriage alliance for help to nip this situation in the bud. Being rumored to be… well her broken maidenhead to horseback would not be doing her any favors.

“Joyous new My Lord! Joyous news!” Lomys said, shuffling in to the dining area like her did all those weeks ago. “A marriage proposal!”

“Ah, who wants to marry my precious rose this time!” Mace said, pinching Margaery’s cheek. She tried to roll her eyes but honestly, she could find nothing but fondness in the gesture. As bad as a political game player as her father was, it was clear he truly loved all of his children.

“Ah yes. Two in one moon.” Her grandmother said, into her tea. “That must be a new record. Well done my dear.”

“A- actually My Lord, My Lady…” Lomys said, “The betrothal is for Lord Willas.”

With that all of the Merriment was sucked out of the room. It was an open secret that with Willas’ injury, many of his marital prospects had dried up. Two had straight up been broken off. The fact that he had one offered to him should have been a sign of joy but to the family it was too good to be true. Maybe a woman who was caught sleeping outside the marriage bed or an old maid. Definitely not someone worthy of her older brother, if there were anyone that was.

“H- Who is it from Maester?” Willas said, voice cracking and almost failing him.

“Lord Eddard Stark, Warden of the North and Lord Paramount of the North would wish to bring your families together through marriage from Willas to his eldest daughter Lady Sansa Stark.” Lomys read off and Margaery almost smiled as she remembered that this could have happened in the original timeline despite the girl’s massive crush on Loras. Either way she truly would have liked to call Sansa sister…

A feeling of dread and… was this giddiness she felt. The way things were going there was no way that this was coincidence. Could Sansa have traveled back with her? Playing the great game? Sweet, Naïve Sansa. Then she remembered the last thing that she heard from her in the first timeline was that Sansa and her bastard brother had retaken Winterfell from a monster worse than Joffrey. (Whoever gave her to that thing would definitely suffer her wraith). Was it possible that she may have an ally?

“Well this is wonderful news!” She shouted at the shock the table had received. “I always wanted a sister… a younger sister.” She tacked on quickly before she insulted Leo.

“Younger?” Willas asked, he was already nine years older than Margaery. If she were any younger than his little sister than that meant that he would be more than a decade his wife’s senior.

“Yes, it says that she is almost thirteen, but proposes that the wedding takes place after she reaches her sixteenth name day.” Lomys said reading much more of the scroll.

“Good, you have a few years to get to know her!” Margaery said, “We can both start to write to her. Don’t you dare screw this up for me, Willas Tyrell!”

“I’m glad my wedding will make you happy.” He deadpanned but he could tell that he was more than a little pleased.

She beamed at him before kissing his cheek, “Of course, brother! What else are little sisters for?”

“I’m guessing…” Olenna started, her eyes narrowing as she tried to figure out why the usually isolated north would offer a daughter for so far south. “That the harvest of the North this summer did not go as planned.”

“Oh, the Starks aren’t like that Grandmother!” Margaery said, “If they wanted something, they would’ve been straight out about it.”

Margaery panicked a little as she realized what she let slip out. She would need to explain herself as to how she knew so much about the Northern Paramounts. As soon as she saw that her grandmother was not about to question her, she continued. Unfortunately, it was not her grandmother she should have been looking for a reaction from.

“This works perfectly.” Margaery said, “It frees the Prince from a proposal from King Robert to join their two houses if she is already spoken for and it will finally get the kings blood into our line that Father has been wanting for so long. Plus it gets Willas finally married, I hear she is quite comely brother.” She added with a wink.

After remembering the tickling incident from a few days ago, she could help but smirk at her brother’s blush at the final comment.

_ Dearest Lady Sansa_   
_It seems that we are to be sisters! I hope before that day that we can become acquainted. I always enjoy female companionship especially now that most of my ladies have come down with **porridge plague**. Maybe a trip down to the Reach could become possible in the near future? I would want you to become familiar with our home before you came here permanently. I hope to hear from you soon_   
_Lady Margaery Tyrell _

“Willas! I am about to send my letter have you completed yours yet?” Margaery said bursting into her older brother’s bedroom without knocking. She was stopped cold as she saw Renei Flowers sitting on her older brethren’s bed.

“Oh! Lady Margaery!” She said, jumping up and quickly dusting off. “I uh I will be going!”

Renei took off through the door and it was quite obvious what had been going down. How long had it been going down for?

“For the love of the gods, please tell me you are not laying with her brother.” Margaery said exasperated, she never did take her brother for a hypocrite. He was complaining that Sansa may be too young but Renei was only a month or two from age with Margaery.

“What? No!” Willas said, surprised at her insinuation. He tilted his head in confusion. Margaery usually did not care about people’s decisions like this. “Why are you so worried about me sleeping with her?”

“She is our bastard Sister.” Margaery said simply. No reason to hide it.

“How’d you find out?” Willas asked, and Margaery raised an eyebrow.

“A comment from Grandmother here, a weird behavior from father there. Wait, how did _you_ find o…That’s not important.” Margaery said, waving off her line of questioning. “Did you complete your letter? Father is about to send his acceptance, and I plan on sending my letter with his but it would look rather queer if I sent a letter and you did not.”

“Margi… What is going on?” Willas said, eyes narrowed at her “You’ve been acting strange for weeks and now extremely strange with the Starks now. Do you and Grandmother have a plot in place that I am unaware of?”

“There’s no plot. I’m fine…” she began before Willas interrupted.

“I may not be Loras, but you can talk to me Margi!” He said, with such earnestness that the flood gates opened as she curled into his side. She did not know why she had been acting as childish as she has been since she got back and that is making her even more emotional. That is why she told him everything she knew including her suspicions about Sansa.

“Ok.” Willas said, “I don’t believe you have gone mad. A mad person would not realize how the nonsense they are spewing out sounds to others. You on the other hand are fully aware.”

“Thank you!” she said, throwing her arms around and rolling her eyes at his neck at his passive-aggressive comment. “I have been so… Thank you for believing me.”

“You are my sister. I will always be there for you.” Willas said, “However the same cannot be said about everyone so let us keep this between ourselves for the time being?”

Margaery nodded rapidly hoping that it would hide her tears. Her grandmother trained her better than to be so open like this. “I left a secret message in my letter to Sansa. If I know her, I think the first words of the letter will be _‘you’re horrible'_.”

“Ok.” Willas said, “If you are correct all we can do is wait and hope that we get a response quickly.”

_ Lady Margaery,_   
_First, you are Horrible. Second, it was nice to receive your letter. I too cannot wait to be sisters as well. I always wanted to have an older sister. But as to your suggestion about the Reach; maybe it would be better if you and Lord Willas came to the North to visit. As you said I will be spending much time at the Reach, However, there may not be ample time to show either of you the beauty of the North especially with what my house words say. Winter is coming. Maybe you can bring a few Traveling companions that I may have to deal with once I am married to your brother such as Lady Desmera Redwyne or Lord **Samwell Tarly**? I look forward to seeing you, and introducing you to my father, **mother**, siblings and **Bastard Brother**._   
_With Love,_   
_Lady Sansa Stark _

“You were right.” Willas said, after she had read the letter that had returned with almost supernatural speed “It looks like we must be taking a trip up to the North soon.”

“Yes. I assume that you will be handling the logistics for this one?” Margaery asked rhetorically. Willas loved doing that sort of thing. Her older brother was very much a control freak.

“Of course.” Willas said, the saw her narrowed eyebrows. “What’s wrong?”

“Just some of the things in this letter.” She said, pointing to the names. “Like why she wanted to see Desmera or Samwell. Or the fact that she referred to her brother as her bastard brother. When I knew her, she always referred to him as her Half-brother.”

“Yes.” Willas said, looking over her shoulder. “It seems she wrote the letter and then went back and re-traced Samwell, Mother and Bastard brother.”

“Do you think…?”

“That those three also came back with the two of you?” Willas said, completing her line of thought.

“Yes.” She said, letting out a huff. The more people who came back the less likely chance she would have of being mad. “Her mother seemed shrill enough and had a good head on her shoulders and Jon Snow became the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. They would not be bad allies to have in this fight.”

“And I have heard much of Samwell Tarly’s mental prowess.” Willas said, “He too would be helpful”

“OK.” Margaery said, “We’ll bring him and a few others. Desmera, Alla, Magga, Mira, Maybe Garlan and Leo?”

“OK.” Willas said, surprisingly letting Margaery take the reins on this. Her brother was a little more than a control freak. “No Elinor?” He asked about Margaery’s closest companion outside of Loras.

“Sansa probably won’t want to see her, Brother. Oh and add Renei too.” Margaery said as an afterthought. “We have a bastard Sister. She has a bastard Brother. Maybe we can become family twice over. Solidate the alliance even stronger.”

From handing Tywin Lannister numerous defeats, to them retaking the North with little help, Margaery now knew from experience that she wanted the Starks as allies not opponents. They could be the ones to destroy the Lannister’s once and for all.

It took barely a sennight but eventually the group was ready to go. Elinor was eventually added to the group as Willas pointed out, it seemed odd for her not to bring one of her closest companions. So the entire group not including the noble ladies consisted of about 35 knights so she did not think that the group would have any troubles while traveling.

She had also invited Samwell Tarly and his sister, Talla. His brother at this point in his life was far too shallow for Margaery to deal. even with as good looking as he was. But she did see the qualities that Willas was speaking of. Even if it was very clear that Samwell was useless at anything martial. Plus unfortunately he obviously did not remember a time from before. Still he was already invited, and if the rumors about what his father did to him is true she was not about to send him back to that in shame.

“Margaery!” Willas said, hobbling over. “I’d like to introduce you to a friend of mine. He was planning a trip to the North as well so I allowed him to come with us..”

“Oh. The more the merrier.” She said, giving her brother a look to which her returned. The look behind his eyes shouted ”_I couldn’t say no!_”

They walked a little bit before Margaery felt her mouth dry up. “Margaery, may I introduce to you Prince Oberyn Martell, his Paramour Ellaria Sand and his daughter Nymeria.”

“Hello.” Oberyn said, kissing her hand.

“H- Hello, your Grace.” Margaery was able to stumble out.

“Oh none of that!” He said, waving her off and giving a dazzling smile. "Willas is a very good friend of mine. Hopefully we can become close as well.

“It’s such a surprise that you have decided to come with us to the North. It must be very different from the heat in Dorne.” Margaery said, through her teeth.

“Oh well it’s a trip that I have been planning for a while now.” Oberyn said, shrugging his shoulders. “There’s a bastard up there I need to make an inquiry about.”


	4. Crone I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa and those who traveled at Winterfell make their plan of action. Everyone gets caught up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may be a little bit of a filler chapter but I gotta say may favorite to write so far.

“You do realize what this sounds like do you not?” Eddard Stark said, his hands pressed together by the fingertips hovering in front of his face. “The fact is…”

“Father, honestly.” Sansa interrupted, something she never even would have thought of doing in her original spot’s place. “Do you think in a million years that Mother and Jon would work together on this unless it was true?”

Ned nodded in acceptance at that logic. “I never said I did not believe you. Just that the story seems unbelievable so it will be hard to convince my Bannermen of any of this.” He got up and started to pace before turning to Sansa.

“You have been here three moons and you did not say anything?” He asked.

“Father, you barely believe us and there are three of us. You probably would have chalked it up to a child’s overactive imagination. I know I probably would have.” Sansa said flippantly causing her father to huff.

“Even still. I want all of you to know if you are having issues with anything you can come to me.” Ned said, spreading out a map of both the north and another of the Seven Kingdoms as a whole. “You say that we need to let the Wildlings through and settle them in the Gift and New Gift?”

“Not yet, Father.” Jon said, surprising Sansa and making Mother flinch at the word ‘father’. Even though they were not close in this time frame the first time around, even Sansa knew he mostly referred to father as ‘Lord Stark’ around her mother. Maybe now that she knew that he was not a symbol of her father’s infidelity they would be able to forge a new relationship. “The Free-folk are a proud bunch. We need to break their host before we can allow them across the Wall. We need to make sure that they know how to live by our rules. What they consider Marriage we consider rape.”

Sansa inadvertently flinched at what he said. She was reminded of her own wedding night and silently questioned if there truly was a difference south of the wall. She knew many women suffered the same on their own wedding nights, like Daenerys or even daily, like Cersei. She was grounded back to reality as Jon took her hand with a muttered apology.

Looking up she saw the horror in both her mother and father’s faces. Despite what the Lannisters thought, her parents were not stupid. She knew her reaction couldn’t have been subtle and what they had been talking about, it probably wasn’t hard for them to figure out what had happened between her and Ramsey.

Before they could release their sympathies upon her, she cut in, “We have a few things we need done quick and in a hurry. First we need alliances.”

“Sansa… if you…” Her father began ignoring her words but truly not knowing what to say, her mother actually heaved up into a chamber pot. Just a few hours ago she was his sweetest child one who loved her dresses and tea parties and who believed in stories and the chivalry of knights. Now she was supposedly a grown woman, who was wedded and…

“I am not made of glass! I am fine!” She snapped, unable to stop from stomping her foot or lying to her parents. “If you wish to help let us make sure it cannot happen again.”

Her mother and father recoiled at her outburst, but her father just said, “Aye. Continue.”

“Like I said, we need alliances.” Sansa said, pulling out the pieces that represent the other major houses placing them in the various sections of the map. At her father’s questioning look she simply stated, “I was Lady of Winterfell for nearly a year and a half. I used these pieces more than enough times.”

She saw the hardened look in her parents faces once again. She was currently fourth in the line of succession, so if she had been Lady of Winterfell something very bad must have happened to their sons. “As I was saying, we are going to need alliances and to do that we need to play the Game of Thrones. I know you do not like it but luckily I was trained by the best.”

“The Whoremonger that betrayed me is the best?” Eddard nearly growled like the sigil of their house.

“The Mountain killed Jon’s siblings yet despite that despicable act he is considered a great fighter.” Sansa shrugged, starting to allow her Alayne persona take over. She never told anyone this, not even Jon, but she always considered Sansa and Alayne separate entities. Sansa was a victim; a political pawn. Alayne made political moves, people respected Alayne, even if they did not know that she existed. “Skill is not correlated to morality.”

Her father sputtered, “What?”

“We know father.” Jon said, glowering. He once told her that Father promised him the name of his mother _after_ joining the watch but was never able to due to what happened. Back when Jon first told her it seemed like a cop out even to Sansa. Honestly, when was father ever going to have the opportunity to talk to Jon up at the wall as hand of the king? She could more than understand her brother’s anger of being jerked around.

“Jon,” she said squeezing his hand just as he had done to her a few moments ago “We need to deal with this now. I understand, but we have to deal with this.”

“Aye, continue.” Jon said, ironically sounding exactly like their… her… like father did a moment ago.

“The best way to get alliances is through marriages.” Sansa said, getting a look as if she were treating them all like idiots, especially considering how her parents got together, yet she continued. “But no alliance is worth being betrothed to Joffrey. I refuse to be connected to him at all. King Robert is currently on his way to offer one. I need to be betrothed by then.”

“That incestuous little monster will never come close to you again, sweetling.” Her mother said, rubbing her arm.

“Are we sure that the children are not Robert’s?” Her father asked, likely still worried about the children as he was in the original timeline.

“You certainly thought so.” Sansa said at the same time that her mother said, “I heard it from the Kingslayer himself.”

“His name is Ser Jaime!” Sansa snapped, “I will not hear him referred to otherwise.”

All three of the other occupants looked surprised but Jon recovered the quickest.

“Aye.” He said, blindly supporting what she said. Even after the Battle of the Bastards, they had problems trusting each other, unconditionally. She tried not to smile at his support. They would need to be a team if they were to stop what was to come. “None of that nickname.”

“Sansa... that man…” Ned began, hardly believing that his children, both of _his_ children, were now grown and King and Lady Paramount in their own right.

“I know what he has done.” She said, “And he can explain his reasoning when he gets here.”

“That is quite a leap of faith to ask of us for so many weeks.” Her mother said.

“He gets here tomorrow night Mother.” Sansa sighed. Before her father could ask, “Mother and Jon cannot remember anything from before three moons ago. We will be fostering Princess Myrcella.” She added for her mother’s benefit.

“What do you wish us to do Sansa?” Father said, cutting off her mother’s next question. “Seize Jaime, Tommen and Myrcella as soon as they get here?”

“No.” Sansa said shaking her head. “Jaime is an ally if he came back like I suspect. Plus, Robin Arryn is fostering with Jaime. I am not about to risk him going back to Lysa. Besides Myrcella and Tommen are nothing like Joffrey. I planned to offer Jon legitimizing them as Lannisters in return for Jaime’s loyalty.”

“So that’s the plan?” Her father sighed. She knew he was berating himself in his head for not assuming that is the endgame earlier. “Jon on the throne.”

“Ned…” Her mother began. “It is his right.”

“Robert is running the realm ragged. We will not be able to stop what is coming with him leading us. At least not with him leading us as a king.” Sansa said, glad she gathered up all the little birds across the castle. Four years at Kingslanding and another at the Vale had made her very good at rooting out spies So far, she had found spies for Varys, Littlefinger, Roose Bolton and surprisingly enough her maternal grandfather. “We need an actual leader. He is not it. He let the rot that is the Lannisters fester across the land do so for a decade and a half. We need to clean up their mess. That will be difficult enough as is without the king’s aid.”

“I will need details of these plans of yours.” Her father said, covering his face with his hands. She knew it could not be easy to betray his oldest friend.

“First send a marriage proposal to Willas Tyrell. Offer my hand.” Sansa said, Theon would have been easier, but between Jon's reaction and the way Margaery described her brother… she could live with him as a husband. Her other choices are some lesser lords. Maybe Samwell, maybe Andar Royce or maybe Trystane Martell it couldn’t be any of their bannermen who were already loyal. They needed the alliance to be outside of the North and Willas was by far the best option for her.

“Sweetling, he’s over a decade older than you.” Her mother said.

“Decade older than her physical body.” Jon corrected. “She is no longer two and ten. She’s a woman grown, capable of making her own choices.”

“It doesn’t have to happen immediately.” Sansa said, “Just say the marriage has to wait until I am of age.”

“Are you sure.” Her father asked, again. Sansa glowered at him again to let him know that she did not appreciate being treated like glass. “I will write up the offer now.”

“The Tyrells will more than likely accept. Littlefinger told me that Mace Tyrell is insecure about the Tyrells only being stewards of the Reach and never having any true King’s blood in their lineage. The Kings of Winter should do.” Sansa said, seeing both her father and Jon looking at her skeptically she added, “If that were to fail ever since his injury Willas has been having trouble with marriage proposals. An offer from another lord paramount will likely be jumped on.”

“So that brings the Reach to our side.” Jon said, ticketing off the alliance in his head he realized that if they were able to convince Jaime to side with them that would be five of the nine regions of Westeros and they could have almost a bloodless coup. “We know from experience that the Iron Islands will not join us, the Stormlands and Crownlands will support Robert, so they are lost causes as well. After what happened with my parents and Elia, I doubt that we’ll be able to get the Martells on board.”

“I do have a plan, but we will have to wait.” Sansa said, marking chalk down at Starfall causing father to flinch. “Both Arya and Edric Dayne are of age of each other. Seems almost a perfect match. The Daynes are the Martells closest Bannermen, not to mention that Dorne and their warrior women would be perfect for Arya. Although it is a shame we’ll have to separate her and Gendry.”

“Who’s Gendry?” Her mother asked, adding to the conversation for the first time in a while. Her breathing had finally evened out the Ramsey reveal, so of course Jon had to go and ruin it.

“Oh, just the boy Arya is in love with.” Sansa said in a sing-songy voice. Both parent’s eyes lit up finding out that their little rough and tumble tomboy would fall in love. Her father even cracked a smile until Jon added,

“He’s also the father to her Bastard.” The humor in both parents evaporated like a snowball in Dorne. “Little Catelyn Snow, has her mother’s eyes and her grandmother’s hair.”

“Jon! That’s not funny!” Sansa said to her parents’ relief. “Although they did…” she said finishing with a shrug and a click of her tongue. She didn’t fancy talking about her little sister’s romantic life with her parents.

“I’m going to geld that boy.” Her father grumbled.

“He’s Robert Baratheon’s Bastard.” Jon supplied, and her father looked like he was playing three different games of Cyvasse at once.

“That… makes sense.” Her father stated, and Sansa knew that it had more to do than Robert being a drunken whoremonger. Arya was the spitting image of Jon’s mother at the same age. She had heard that about Gendry and how much he looked like Robert. It took a certain amount of irony for that to come to fruition.

“We are getting off topic.” Sansa said, forcefully redirecting the conversation back to the matter at hand. “Robb needs to Marry a Lady of the North.”

“I suggest Meera Reed. They have been loyal Bannermen.” Jon said.

“But what about Bran’s trip north?” Sansa asked.

“He won't be going on it. Winterfell won't be falling anytime soon. And Sh… the old gods can’t provide greensight to us. .” Jon said, glancing at father not wanting to reveal his conversation with Aunt Lyanna. "And besides she's six years older than him. He's to young at this point. It isn't as if either remember their expierences together."

“I owe Howland much.” Ned said, finally. “I would be very happy to make his daughter the Lady of the North. I will send the missive along with the betrothal to Lord Tyrell.”

As soon as Jon let out a sigh Sansa felt a feral grin spread across her face, “Don’t think I forgot about you _brother_. But don't worry I already handled that.”

Jon flinched, and Ned narrowed his eyes. “How?”

She flinched as she realized she said to much. “What.”

“You heard me, Daughter.”

“I… may have, as you, invited Lord Manderly up to White Harbor and implied he should bring his granddaughters.” Sansa said, trying to project an air of innocence, and in this body, it may have worked had he not known the difference. For the first time in either life she heard her father yell.

After five minutes Jon said, “Enough.”

“Don’t…” Ned started to warn before being cut off by Jon.

“No, you don’t.” Jon snapped back. “You still don’t get how dire this situation is. Sansa knows what she is doing. Let her work!”

“Th-Thank you Jon.” Sansa said, trying not to get choked up from the faith her brother had in her. These dammed adolescent hormones! And that's not even getting into seeing her father's anger directed at her “My original plan was to have you get Jon legitimized and make him Lord of Moat Cailin before getting him married to Wylla Manderly. She’s of age with Jon’s current body and White Harbor is barely a day’s ride from Cailin so that would have helped in our favor.”

“Wylla… Is that the one with Green Hair?” Her father asked, and her mother started looking green around the gills.

“Yes.” Sansa said, “Him being in Moat Cailin and defending against any southron attack could show his heroism and help lead into them following him.”

“You truly thought that would work?” Her mother asked, and before Sansa could get insulted upon her brother’s behalf her mother continued. “I have been around Northerners for a long time and I know at the very most that would gain him their respect and they would then treat him like an equal but to follow him? Over an actual trueborn Stark, it would take a lot more.”

“I have a lot less political maneuvering skill now than I would like.” Sansa admitted. “It’s making me a little sloppy. And like I said nothing gets set in stone.”

“I thought the goal was to avoid war.” Her father said.

“The War of the Five kings?” Sansa said, cocked eyebrow. It was starting to gain a life of its own. “Yes. But war in and of itself is inevitable. Balon Greyjoy already has plans to invade the North, Theon be damned. Tywin Lannister is champing at the bit to show his worth to remind everyone about how he should be feared. War is inevitable and all it needs is a catalyst. One Littlefinger just provided.”

“He needs to be taken care of.” Jon said, “We should just let it be hinted to Robert he killed Jon Arryn. Robert has a temper. It’ll be easy enough and we would not even have to do anything.”

“No!” Sansa said, panicked. “We can’t!”

As her parents exchanged worried looks, she clarified, “It isn’t like that. Trust me. Even with everything Joffrey and Ramsey did, there is no one I hate more than Littlefinger.” Sansa said. “But right now, he has too many Lords and Ladies in his pocket and has just as many in his control through their dirty little secrets. If we do this indelicately, we can plunge the realm into uncontrollable war. We need to be able to conduct damage control.”

“What do you suggest?”

“Father and Jon can handle the likes of Tywin, Balon and Robert.” Sansa said causing Ned to flinch at Robert being added to that list.

“Robb too.” Her mother added. “He will be the future lord of Winterfell he will need to learn to lead men as well. He was undefeated in battle. We may need that.”

“Aye,” Sansa agreed with her mother’s wisdom. “Leave Littlefinger to me. He trained me in Court Politics and intrigue. If anyone has a shot against the greatest schemer, it’ll be me.”

Alayne put on a confident front but she honestly had no idea how the hell she was going to take him down. He was not around her by this point and just starting to climb the ladder. He would be even more on the lookout for schemes than normal. She was hoping she could pull of a miracle.

“But back to Wylla, when we do make a claim for the Iron Throne, she is actually a very good pick.” Sansa said, drawing three arrows from White Harbor. “The North, the some of the Riverlands and some of the Vale all get supplies and shipments through White Harbor. They all know the Manderlys. It’ll be a good pick.”

“There are some other choices.” Her mother said, quietly. Sansa hated how her mother was looking at her now. With pity, someone that needs to be protected. She grinded her teeth and allowed herself to watch. But she seemed more willing to hear Sansa’s plans than her father so at least there is that. “Lady Margaery mayhaps? Or Princess Arianne from Dorne? And there’s always Princess Myrcella herself if we wish to make peace with the Lannisters as you have said.”

“Those are good choices,” Sansa said, and she had thought of each one of them and had them high on all her lists. She watched Jon chuckle to himself at the irony of Catelyn planning his bride. She would need to tell Jon to stop antagonizing her mother. She was trying, so he need to as well. “But honestly Margaery can’t be trusted with this, her family is too ambitious, the second they got what they wanted from Joffrey they killed him. I do not think it will be likely for them to do it to Jon but I do not want to take the chance. Not until we are tied to them unquestionably can we start to trust them. 

As for the others, I do not know Princess Arianne. Although I heard she was disowned by her father, I do not have any details as to the reasoning behind it. And for Myrcella? She’s way to young. Jon will need an heir and she has, at the very least, two years before that is even remotely likely.” Especially with how her Aunt Lyanna died at such a young age she left unsaid. "Myrcella would be a good choice for Robin Arryn maybe? Shireen for Bran to ease tentions after everything is said and done with. You always spoke highly of Shireen, brother."

“And I would be lying if I said that I came up with the Wylla match for purely political purposes.” She said, blushing. Sometimes she was still the little girl who loved reading about knights rescuing fair maidens. “She will be good for you brother; trust me on that.” She said gaining a chuckle from father. He lit up at the sight of his romance loving daughter flashing through again.

“She deserves to be queen. She openly defended the Starks even under Bolton rule, even after Ramsey got her.” That monster had her for three days before Sansa and Jon took back Winterfell. She never broke. “She deserves to be the parent of the next ruler of the Seven Kingdoms.”

“Speaking of pregnancies…” Jon said, trailing off before awkwardly looking at her mother. It took a moment before realized and they all looked down to her stomach.

“Cat…” Her father said, in awe and Sansa felt her throat get dry as the implication hit her. How could she have been so stupid as to miss something like this! Bran explicitly told his siblings that he was sure all six were Wargs (did he know about Jon’s parentage at the time?). That it wasn’t coincidence that there were six direwolves: four males, two females. So there wouldn't be a coinidence that this time around their were seven. She should have seen this coming.

“"Me? What? How?” Her mother’s eye got wide as saucers. Her hands went subconsciously to her belly as Jon detailed the theory about the Wargs.

"Most likely, Tails will be for Little Minisa." She said, throwing her hat in the ring of what her new sibling would be named. 

"Tails?" Her brother asked.

"The seventh direwolf pup." Sansa said, "Her tail is always wagging and it's almost a deadly weapon."

"Shouldn't the new baby be the one to pick the name?" Her mother asked.

"We have to name it something!" Sansa exclaimed and threw up her hands before she could stop herself. This impulsiveness was truly getting on her nerves. "Farlen said if we don't name them soon enough they might start answering to Direwolf or 'Hey you!'"

“Maybe I should talk to your Mother.” Her father interupted their ridiculous arguement, as a not so subtle way of telling them to get out. He was starting to become overwhelmed and Sansa could not blame him. Time travel and animal possession would be overwhelming for anyone, hells she was somewhat overwhelmed.

“Maybe you should both go find your Brother. Maybe explain to him what is going on?” Her mother said, but it did not sound like much of a suggestion. Jon nodded and looked happy at the prospect of reconnecting with his partner in crime.

“Ok.” Sansa said, practically skipping. She was going to have a little sister to dote on! Something worth getting excited about at any age. “I shall be in Robb’s room if you need anything. Good night, Father. Good night, mother. " She said, kissing both on the cheek making her mother smile and rub her belly once last time before Sansa closed the door.

A few hours later Sansa padded her way into Jon’s room, Lady in hand. They probably should have told Robb but they both agreed it was an unpleasant task, and probably better for her mother. . She had been with Robb for the last few years before his death. Instead she thought maybe they could practice their Warging. “Sansa? What are you.. You shouldn’t…”

“If you are about to give me some bullshit about us technically being cousins now so this is inappropriate, piss on that. I told you once I’ll tell you again. You’re a Stark to me.” Sansa said, tip toeing over to the bed as Lady went to curl up with Ghost... and Nymeria.

“What the hell does that mean!” Arya said, shooting up from Jon’s other side panic in her voice.

“…Shit.”

Before Arya could shoot out of the bed, Jon wrapped an arm around her middle. “Listen, Arya you can’t tell anyone ok.”

“Tell anyone what? What does that mean? That we’re technically cousins now?” Arya said, panic in her voice.

“Promise me you won’t say anything.” Jon said, covering her mouth. “Not to Robb, not to Bran no one.”

Arya’s eyes shot between her and Jon what seemed a hundred times before she finally nodded passionately. “I am not really your brother.” He said. “My mother was your Aunt Lyanna.”

“So that means your father…” Arya said, uncertainly. No one wants to call someone else a child born of rape.

“Was in love with her.” Jon clarified, “They were married on the isle of faces.”

“So that means.” Arya said, her face lighting up.

“He’s not a bastard, but still our Brother.” Sansa said, making her little sister beam. “But it’s got to be a secret OK?”

Arya squinted before nodding probably remembering what happened to Aegon and Rhaenys. “I can keep a secret.” She said, looking at Jon. Then she looked sad. “I can’t believe you told Sansa before me.”

“Hey!” Sansa replied indignantly.

“She was there when I found out.” Jon said, and from a certain point of view she could say that that was true. Sansa was there when he found out, she was there in the future.

“Oh…” Arya said, more confused than ever. Why would Sansa have been with Jon when he heard?

“Arya, why don’t you go get Robb.” Sansa said, and her sister gave her a look that meant she knew Sansa was trying to have her dismissed. “Jon will explain everything to you both. Everything.”

“Aye.” Jon said nodding causing Arya and Nymeria to take off to get the oldest of the Stark bunch.

“I know today in the Solar with your parents was hard.” He began, Sansa tried not to sigh to herself as he continued. “But I just want to let you know that if you ever need to talk about it, don’t hesitate. I won't mention it again.”

Sansa smiled as she realized that he was going to leave it at that, and not push. “You too. About the mutiny I mean.” She said, clarifying. “I know that dig at my mother was you subtly trying to it get it out in the open. If you need to talk please just let me know.”

“You looked more relaxed today than I have ever seen you.” Jon said, changing the subject. “You were in your element, it suits you.”

Sansa felt heat come to her face, “Oh shush.” She said, waving him off. “You know, you are pretty good at the politics game too. If you applied yourself. Maybe if you got a good teacher.”

“Yourself, I’m assuming?” He said in jape.

“Absolutely not!” She nearly shouted. “I love you Jon, but I can only imagine that as one of the seven hells.”

Jon visibly recoiled, until he thought about it and tilted his head in agreement. They may be close, but they bickered even worse than ten-year-old Sansa and Eight-year-old Arya. Almost nothing would get done.

“Tyrion or Lady Olenna might be good choices.” Sansa said, “I still don’t trust Varys.”

She left out the obvious. While Littlefinger was certainly one of the best players of the game there was no way anybody anywhere could trust him. Sansa would bring him down if the last thing she did; and when she did, she would bring him down hard.

“Wylla will be good for you, you know?” Sansa said, and Jon’s eyes snapped to hers. “She served as one of my ladies for a while in Winterfell while you were at Dragonstone.”

“You know her well?” He asked, subtly referencing their earlier converstation.

“Not particularly and definitely not like that.” She said, before continuing. “She is very pretty you’ll be happy to hear. I was around her enough to know she won’t deal with your annoying brooding, so at least there is that.”

Jon actually laughed at her jape, but she assumed that he was just humoring her. A moment later she found herself right. “I will never ask you to marry again.” He said. “Only if you want it with someone you love.”

They have had this conversation before, but it felt good to have had a reassurance. She knew her father after knowing what happened with Ramsey, she doubted that he would either. But she was being realistic they needed an alliance and the Reach has the largest army. This betrothal would be needed.

“Hey!” Arya said, distracting her from her from her thoughts. “Robb is in the courtyard.”

“What?” Sansa said exchanging an equally bewildered look with Jon. “This late at night?”

“Yes.” Arya said, nodding. “He’s arguing with some lady about remembering something.”

Sansa was out the door almost immediately. “Go get mother!” She shouted behind her as she took off towards the courtyard. She could hear Jon and the direwolves shoot out after her. It only took a few moments before Jon and Sansa were standing on the ramparts watching a woman pleading with Robb.

“Sansa?” Jon said, question unasked.

“No, I do not recognize her either.” She answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to be clear, there will be no Jon/Daenerys and No Sansa/Jon in this fic. Next up the Maiden wakes up and is very very confused. Also walking in on her father having sex is NOT something she ever wanted to see again. Ever.


	5. Maiden I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Maiden wakes up and is very very confused. Also walking in on her father having sex is NOT something she ever wants to see again. Ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the wait, and how short this chapter is. The holiday had me all messed up. Also I made a few minor changes to chapters 3 and 4. But without further ado

Myrcella woke up and her first thought was “So this is what Tyrion meant when he talked about a hangover.” Her mouth was dry, her head hurt, and she was determined to never drink if this was what it resulted in.

She rolled over in her bedding before remembering what had transpired. Someone obviously cleaned her face from the blood from her nose but that did not help. She shot up in realization. Ellaria tried to kill her! She just didn’t understand why. She could at least understand trying to avenge Princess Elia but Oberyn’s death was his own damn fault. She said it to herself silently as tears trailed down her face. She did not do anything!

As her feet touched the ground her entire equilibrium was thrown off as she stumbled to the ground. That was weird but not as much as how cold she was in merely her thin shift. In Dorne she was not used to this cold. She knew that winter was coming but Doran said it shouldn’t be for another year and a half… how long had she been asleep?

“Princess?” A sleepy feminine voice said, sounding as if they were just awaking.

As she ignored the voice she felt no rocking of a ship and as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she realized that she was in a tent. Why were they on land now? Did they stop for a Maester, there should have been one on the ship shouldn’t there have been? None of this made sense. She needed to find her father. Maybe he could explain.

She pulled a cloak that was close to her bed, she did not want to steal but they did leave their cloak in Myrcella’s tent so whoever’s it was could not even be mad. She was glad to see the cloak that looked far too small for her fit perfectly as she walked out of her tent.

She gasped in awe at all the snow. She remembered seeing it all while she was in Winterfell but to see so much of it after all the heat and sand it was more than jarring for her to get such a whiplash of the temperature change. She shivered as she walked over to a guard in Lannister crimson.

“Where is my f… Uncle Jaime, good Ser?” She asked, voice squeaky from what Myrcella assumed was disuse.

“He’s in his tent, Princess.” The guard said, almost vaguely, eyes.

After a moment she asked, “And where is his tent?”

“It’s… uh… He is busy Princess maybe you should wait until morning.” The Guard said, scratching the back of his neck

“Well this is important!” She said, trying to keep her voice civil. As useless as she was, Sansa Stark once said to her that Curtesy was a Ladies armor and judging by the fact that she survived her brother it seemed to be really good advice. She then frowned to herself as she realized what she said about the innocent girl who became her brother’s victim. She was starting to think like her mother again. It was hard to avoid those thinking traps, but she needed to avoid them. As much as she loved her mother, it would not due for Myrcella to become as hateful as she was.

“He is… over there Princess.” He said, finally. While he could delay her there was really nothing that he could do if she ordered him to tell her. She was technically a Princess even if she did not truly have Baratheon blood.

“Thank you, Ser!” She said, giving him a smile that her mother taught her to give; in one of the few moments she was not coddling Joffrey or screwing father.

“Princess! Wait! Princess!” the same feminine voice from her tent called behind her which she once again ignored.

She walked off and honestly, she was surprised he was not there waiting for her to wake up. She tried to not be vain about it, but she saw the panic on his face as she collapsed. She truly thought she was going to die and the look on his face made her believe that he thought the same. Although the Maester must have talked to him while she was asleep. She would ask him about it right now…

“**_OH MY GODS!_**” Myrcella screamed as she found her father rolling in the furs with some woman she did not recognize. While she was still a maiden, and despite her mother severely neglecting her education, she spent more than enough time with the Dornish to know the basics of exactly what her father was doing with a woman who was _not_ her mother.

“Myrcella!” Her father shouted, as he rolled around getting trousers on.

“**_MY EYES!_**” She yelled again rubbing at them furiously. As she rushed from the tent. She knew Tyrion liked to indulge in his baser urges, but she always thought that her father was not like that and would never stray from her mother. “Why!”

“Myrcella!” Her father said again, only for the first time in either life she heard her carefree “uncle” angry. Considering what she walked in on she really could not blame him. She was shaken from her thoughts as three quick strikes hit her rear end. “What in the seven hells were you thinking coming into my tent like that!”

“Fath…er” She started to hiss indignantly at being treated and handled like a child, until she saw her father’s right, _flesh_, hand. “Your... Your Hand!”

But as she looked up, she saw that all the color had drained from her father’s face. “What did you just say?” He whispered. She had no idea what was going on. Why did he react like seeing a ghost? How the fuck (damn it Tyene) could he get his real hand back? Who was this woman…

“Lord Jaime.” The woman in question said, and the first thing Myrcella noticed was how tall she was. Taller than Jaime at the very least. Then the next thought that crossed her head which she promptly kicked herself for was she was not very attractive, except her eyes. “Maybe it is prudent that we get the Princess out of the cold when she wears little not but a shift?”

Jaime seemed to take her words into consideration as he put a hand at the center of her back to lead her back to the tent. “Yes.” Her father stated without really thinking.

“I am so sorry, Lord Jaime!” A green haired girl said, desperately after she appeared out of nowhere. “I did not know…”

“It is quite alright Lady Wylla.” Her father said, lying his hand on the girl’s shoulder, and Myrcella realized just how tall this girl was. Easily a head or a head and a half taller than Myrcella who was by no means short. Myrcella was almost as tall as Jaime… She frowned as it seemed as if her father had grown a foot practically overnight. “I will need to speak with her. Just wait here for a moment while I talk to her”

Myrcella started to cry from frustration as she was led to the leader’s tent. What was going on? Who was this girl? Who was the woman with her father? How did she… How did she…

She tried to not be startled as Jaime picked her up and hugged her to his chest once her realized her distress. “Myrcella was has gotten into you?”

Myrcella clamped down on her initial response of “Not Trystane” (Again Dammit Tyene) and said, “I don’t know what happened? Where are we? How long was I asleep for?”

“Myrcella…” The look on Jaime’s face was beyond bewildered.

“What’s the last thing that you remember Princess?” the tall Woman asked, causing her father to stiffen.

“I was on the boat with fa… Uncle Jaime.” She said, brow furrowing. “Who are you?”

“Myrcella, that’s Brienne?” Her father looked at her confused, but the woman looked as if she were going to be sick. The woman walked over to her and knelt in front of her (and was still taller than her…)

“Princess, the year is 298.” She said, simply and the horror on her father’s face grew.

“What? No, it’s 303.” Myrcella said, to the obviously simple woman.

“No, it is 298.” She said, shaking her head. “Look around Princess, look how small you have become, your father’s hand…”

“You know!” Myrcella exclaimed.

“Yes, he told me. A few years from now.” Brienne said, pointedly and Myrcella finally realized everything must be true.

Myrcella fell to her knees. It was all real. Tyrion’s trial, Joffrey’s death and what her Grandfather did to the Starks. Dorne. Oh gods….

The next thing she knew she was outside the tent retching and her father was holding her hair back. She looked up to see Tommen and another sickly-looking boy looking at her with barely veiled concern.

“Your sister will be fine. You both should be in bed; drills start early tomorrow.” He said to Tommen, causing him to scamper off with the other boy.

“Was that Robyn Arryn?” She asked, as her father… Uncle brought her back to the tent. She needed to get used to calling him Uncle again, both in and out of her head.

“Yes, I am taking both him and your Brother in as Squires.” Jaime said, as Brienne finished dressing.

“Lysa Tully is allowing that?” She asked incredulously. The woman was mad, and Myrcella did not feel bad about saying it. Robyn was older than Tommen and still being breastfed. In public! She thought the mad woman would honestly try to claw Tommen’s eyes out when he asked Robyn to play along with his cats.

“She had no choice.” Jaime said, as he sat Myrcella down on his furs before she shot up when she realized what had been going on less than ten minutes ago. “Jon Arryn did it without her knowledge. Although now that he’s gone…”

Myrcella grimaced as she realized that the older man that was like a Grandfather to her had passed in this new life as well. She sighed sadly remembering how he was practically the only adult that truly cared for her in the Red Keep.

“Where are we going now?” Myrcella asked, she had only been to the Westerlands once when she was little, but this did not look like what she remembered.

“Winterfell.” Jaime said, “While I am taking Tommen and Robyn to Casterly Rock, you will be fostering with the Starks.”

“Oh, so they can have a hostage once Joffrey decides to be a little shit?” She snapped. She was already a hostage once and it got her killed apparently. She was _not_ about to let that happen again.

“No!” Jaime said, grinning at the first time hearing his daughter swear. “If we do our jobs right hopefully that never happens in the first place! And besides, the Starks already have a hostage and they treat him like family.”

“Oh yeah the Greyjoy boy who murdered the two youngest boys. Seems like a great idea.” She snarked.

Jaime’s eyebrowed furrowed and he said, “You are a lot more sarcastic than I remember.”

“And Theon Greyjoy did not kill the Stark boys. I talked to Brandon Stark myself and if _anyone _were to know what happened to us and why we remember it, it will be him.” Brienne added, “Your fostering is just the cover we need to speak with him.”

At the lady’s distasteful look Myrcella could tell she did not like sneaking around but with this time travel business it was for the best. She knew she did not want to be labeled a lunatic so the sneakiness would need to stay. Winterfell would not be so bad she supposed. Lady Catelyn seemed nice, Sansa too, Arya was funny and her older brother… she attempted to keep the heat from her cheeks with thoughts of that one.

“When do we get there?” Myrcella said, then trying to keep the hope out of her voice she added “I am not betrothed to anyone am I.”

. She would miss Trystane but there was no way she would willingly go near any member of his family ever again. A Stark betrothal was probably her best option, even if it weren’t technically a Stark

“I don’t think it mattes much.” Jaime said, shrugging. “Stark betrothals tend to fall through.”

“Don’t be an arse, Ser Jaime.” Brienne said, rolling her eyes with fondness, but Myrcella had to agree with her Father. Brandon, Lyanna, Robb, Sansa all were betrothed to someone and all ended in misery.

“It’s actually _Lord Jaime_ now, Wench.” Jaime said and Myrcella smiled at the banter that the two had and was glad that her Father found someone who he could truly be happy with. That was never going to happen with her mother. Until it hit her.

“Are you no longer Kingsguard?” She asked.

“No.” He said, sadly. “Brienne convinced me of what is coming and that I’ll be more help as a Paramount than a kings guardsman.”

“Convinced… you did not come back did you?” She asked, upset. While she was glad he did not remember; she was upset that he doesn’t remember the boat.

“No.” He said, “Brienne found me after she woke up. She convinced me of everything.”

“How?” She asked at her father’s adorable blush.

“Well he certainly did not make it easy for me.” Brienne said.

“She told me things that only I would know.” As Myrcella’s nose crinkled he added with a roll of his eyes, “Nothing like that!”

He attempted to leave it at that but Myrcella looked at him expectantly and he huffed.

“One night, I don’t think you had even made it to one name day, I was spending time with your mother….” He said sadly. She remembered her parents as inseparable, for him to leave her… Her mother wouldn’t have let that happen without a fight. “She didn’t want us to get caught so she sent all the servants away, before passing out drunk herself. But you started crying. She wasn’t waking up, so I picked you up and just like that you stopped crying. First and only time I held any of you.”

She started tearing up at the fondness in his voice. Before she could help herself, she threw herself at his middle. “Now we have another chance!” She said, we can run away too Essos! You, me, Tommen… Lady Brienne.” She said, hopefully the last part didn’t sound as distasteful to Brienne and Father as it did to her own ears.

“No.” He said, more forcefully than she had ever heard before. She liked this new father. It was much better than the swagger that she was used to. “I already made a mistake by allowing one set of children live on the run in Essos, I am not about to allow that to happen again.”

“I don’t know if you remember her, but Lady Catelyn is fiercely protective.” Brienne said, “As is Arya, and Lady Sansa will be a good companion.”

“We will be there in the morning.” Jaime said, cupping her face. He stuck his head out of the tent and said something, presumably to Lady Wylla. “You should get some sleep.”

“Yes father.” She said dutifully right before the Green-haired girl came in.

“Lady Wylla will escort you back to your tent.” Jaime said, “Wench, get that sell sword you insisted on to come to watch over her tent. I’m not sure if I trust Ser Oakhart to handle it himself.” He almost spat and Myrcella wondered whose bright idea was it to have a man named Arys work with her father on the Kingsguard.

“He can’t.” Brienne said, “He said he had a job while he was in the North and he will meet us at Winterfell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, while I will be taking stuff from the books, the general flow of events is going to be from the show. So while there will be thinks that i take from the books (i.e. WIllas betrothal instead of Loras, Starklings as Wargs, Margaery NOT sleeping w/ Tommen etc. ) the general events from the show will be what I am going with. So unfortunately that means Sansa/Ramsey and the Dorne plot (the fact that they made a character who had one of the best speeches against revenge in all of media decide to kill a little girl...) have to stay to keep the general order of events correctly
> 
> Coming up in the next few chapters is both parties make it to Winterfell and everyone needs to deal with what comes with that, and Sansa finds something wonky that our travelers will have to deal with. Also Jon gets a really cool sword.


	6. Mother I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mother deals with a blast from the past as visitor arrive at Winterfell. Much dire news is discussed

Catelyn banged on the door to her husband’s solar before walking right in. She no longer had the time nor patience to be horrified at this action like she would have been before the War of the Five Kings. By the Seven what example is she showing to her children?

“By all means, do come in.” She heard her husband say sarcastically in the first time in five and ten years of marriage.

“Have you sent the missive to Lord Reed yet?” She asked, furiously glancing at the door.

“No, not yet. I sent the proposal to Lord Tyrell, but Howland’s letter is right…” He said, holding up a sealed scroll. Before he could finish, she snatched the parchment and tossed it into his fire. “…here.”

She tried not to laugh at the incredulous look on her husband’s face as if she had suddenly decided to start singing and dancing.

“Cat, what the…” He began before she pulled another into the room.

“Ned, I’d like to introduce you to Talisa Maegyr… Our good daughter.” She said, causing him to splutter.

“You are a lot more dramatic than I remember.” Talisa said, to her with a ghost of a smirk on her face.

“Another?” Ned asked, and just by his reaction she could tell her husband was getting a headache.

Talisa fidgeted for a moment, before walking over (when she subconsciously grabbed her stomach Catelyn couldn’t help but grimace) and stuck her hand out. “Lord Stark, I have heard many good things.” She said, not being able to keep the nervousness out of her voice. To be fair to the girl she was meeting a man who she only knew as dead.

“It is nice to meet you as well.” He said, giving Cat a questioning glare.

“W-Who else remembers?” She asked looking at Catelyn. She could not blame the girl for being nervous all things considered.

“Myself, my daughter, and the… his… my… Jon Snow.” She said through her teeth. “We believe Jaime Lannister, who can apparently be trusted,” She quickly added as Talisa sucked in a breath. “Other than that, we are unsure.”

Talisa eyed Ned before asking, “Those two are the ones that came back? Do they… Do they _know_?”

“Know what?” Ned asked.

“Your son,” Catelyn said, “disowned Sansa and made Aemon his heir.”

Ned’s eyes widened in shock before narrowing, as Talisa mouthed ‘Aemon’, she then added, “He was worried about his own heirs. With his sister in Lannister clutches, and the baby maybe being a girl he wanted Jon Snow to be in charge in the case of his… death.”

Catelyn tried not to let a huff at the memory. Pragmatically she knew that Aemon was the better choice as Sansa, as far as they knew, had no military or command experience. It still hurt to see her only other living child, at least as far as she knew, disowned for a bastard. Even if he was not one, she still should have been ahead of him as he was a cousin. Damn the Lannister for marrying Sansa and damn Tyrion Lannisters to the Seven Hells for what he did to her little girl.

Ned frowned, “Baby?”

Before either could respond to that depressing news there was another knock at his door. “Fath... er.” Sansa said as she walked in the open door. Catelyn did not miss the look that she gave Talisa and hoped that there would not be any friction between the two, considering her daughters words about her brother from earlier.

“Yes, Sansa. What is it that you need?” Ned asked to change the subject.

“Well, I need you to be more careful than blurting things out with the door to your solar open.” She said, and Catelyn had noticed that her prim and proper daughter had become much snippier and more sarcastic. Three and ten or three and twenty, she would need to put a stop to that quick, fast and in a hurry. “I’ve cleared out most of the spies around Winterfell, but we can never be too careful.”

“Spies!” Ned asked angrily. “In Winterfell? Whose?”

“Varys the Spider, Littlefinger, Roose Bolton, and Grandfather.” Sansa said, “Also one I suspect from the Martells but I cannot prove it yet. So, calling Jon, Aemon probably is not the best choice for right now considering everything that happened between our families.”

“Your Grandfather? My father? Spies?” Catelyn said, ignoring the latter part as Ned said it was taken care of long ago. “Are you certain?”

“Unless you know another Hoster Tully?” Sansa said, cocking an eyebrow.

Catelyn fumed, “I will be writing him in the morning! This is unacceptable; believe me Ned I had…”

“I do.” Ned said, holding up a hand. “He was probably worried about me keeping Jon the way I do and is afraid that I would set you and the children aside for him.”

“Either way I will speak with him.” Catelyn said, “If this threat is coming as soon as they say then we need to be united and trust each other. Spies do nothing but sow distrust amongst ourselves.”

Sansa sighed and continued, “Father did you send the Letter to the Tyrells?”

“Yes, a few hours ago.” Ned narrowed his eyes. “Are you having second thoughts…”

“No.” Sansa said, curtly while dashing Catelyn’s hopes, she had heard nothing but good things about Willas Tyrell but after her daughters first disaster of a marriage she wanted to keep her close. “We have gotten a response.”

“What?” Both parents said, simultaneously. Letters to Highgarden took Days to deliver and weeks to send and then receive a response. It should be impossible to have earned a letter back so quickly unless they sent them before they sent theirs.

“Yes.” She said, holding up three scrolls. “Two for me one from Willas and the other from Margaery and the other for Father.”

“Give it here.” Her father said, as he read. “This doesn’t make any sense. He accepted the betrothal. This is a _response_.”

“What does yours say, Darling?” Catelyn said to Sansa and she read.

“It is just Willas asking for us to communicate back and forth, saying he does not want to be strangers once we wed.” Sansa said skimming through the letter, before grabbing the other one. “And Margaery is inviting me to Highgarden. She wants…”

Talisa and Catelyn exchanged looks as Sansa trailed off tilting her head.

“Sansa…” Catelyn said, grabbing her oldest daughter’s shoulder.

“Margaery remembers.” She said, and Catelyn was sure she was imagining her new stoic daughter having tears in her eyes. “She references a conversation that we had in the past life the first time I was betrothed to Willas. She has too. It’s… I am going to go write her back right now! I’m inviting them here!”

“Sansa, wait!” Ned shouted but was ignored. She knew her husband well enough that he would advise caution.

“The Tyrells are overly ambitious.” Catelyn said, “In the past life they married that girl and supported Renly Baratheon to push his claim to be king.”

“What happened to Stannis?” Ned asked, confused.

“At that point? Absolutely nothing.” Catelyn said to Ned’s disapproval. “But the girl is smart. She was able to pick out the fact Sansa came back _and_ send a Secret message in response.”

“Your point?”

“That even if we wanted to do something about the Tyrells, we cannot.” Catelyn said, “It will take far too long to do anything and due to the time skip that not many know about we will look like the aggressors. No, the girl seems to have a good head on her shoulders. I believe she will realize that there is more at stake here than a power struggle in the south. And besides, from what Sansa has said, the girl was her only friend in the viper’s pit that is Kingslanding. She cannot be all that bad.”

“So that means there are four of us now?” Talisa asked, with Catelyn so wrapped up in her conversation that she nearly forgot she was there. “Who all knows? Does Robb know…”

“**_FATHER!” _**_Arya s_creamed as she sprinted into the room. “_JonisdyingIdontknowwhathappenedpleaseyouneedtohelphimidontknowwhatswrongwithhimbuthesbleedinganddyinghesdyingpleasefatherpleaseyouneedtohelphim!”_

“Arya. Arya!” Ned said, grabbing her shoulders. “Slow down and speak clearly. What are you talking about?”

“Jon! Father he’s dying!”

The color drained from her husband’s face. “What?”

“He’s dying and bleeding, Maester Luwin is trying to help him but it is not working. Please father you need to do something!” Arya said tears trailing down her face.

Cat quickly swept up her youngest daughter in a hug as Talisa and Ned both ran from the room to the Maester’s chambers. “Shhh, Arya it’ll be alright.”

But despite her best efforts the girl squirmed from her grasp and sprinted to follow her father and good sister. Catelyn picked up her skirts and followed behind as quickly as she could but did not run “_Ladies do not run my little Kitty-Cat.” _She remembered her mother telling her. “Oh, bugger that.” She sighed to herself as she followed her daughter’s lead and ran after her. There was a time for everything and her nephew dying probably made that list.

When she got to the room it was quite the view to see. Aemon was pacing and stumbling around the room like a drunkard; his torso was covered in blood, and a bloody shirt thrown to the side of the Maester’s operating table. He was breathing heavy before placing his hand on a wall above his head and relieving and enormous amount of red bile into a chamber pot.

“Jon you need…” Ned started putting his hands on the boy’s (man’s?) shoulders. Aemon almost violently shoved him off.

“Get off!” He nearly shouted.

“Jon!” Robb shouted running into the room causing Talisa to flinch. He then forced his cousin to the table, much less combative than he had been with Ned.

Talisa seemed to have regained her wits as she shot forward and took a rag to all the blood on Aemon’s torso. “Jon? Hi, I am a nurse. I need to take a look at these wounds, alright?”

Aemon narrowed his eyes at her no doubt recognizing her from her earlier argument with Robb and when she said, “Nurse” his eyes widened as he seemed to put two and two together. He quickly met her eyes to which she nodded.

“These… these are fatal….” Talisa said, stumbled through her words, and for the first time she saw tears fill her husband’s eyes. “I don’t think…”

“Get Arya out.” Aemon said, some blood spraying from his mouth.

“What? No!” Arya said, before being dragged off by a Stark Guard.

“I’m going to be fine.” Aemon said, taking the rag from Talisa.

“Fine!” Robb shouted. “You have numerous fucking stab wounds!”

“Robb!” Catelyn admonished he oldest child’s language.

“This happened before, in the other timeline.” Aemon clarified. “The Night’s Watch Officers ambushed me and stabbed me to death.”

“Other timeline?” Robb asked confused and he was ignored by all but Luwin who seemed just as bewildered as his charge. Ned looked like he wanted to rip someone’s head off with his bare hands.

“Why.” Ned said, and Catelyn had only ever seen him this angry once, when she brought up Ashara Dayne.

“It is a long story.” Aemon said, and his eyes got dark. “I was resurrected by a Red Priestess.”

“Red Priestess, like the one Stannis has… had?”

“The very same.” Aemon said, nodding taking a wine skin from Maester Luwin and downed it in what seemed like one huge gulp.

“That was to sterilize the needles we’re to use on you, Jon!” Luwin cried, indignantly.

“Their god is not very happy with everything that happened. Arya and I…” The boy said, ignoring him.

“Arya and you…” Ned said, indicating that he should continue.

“Were practicing… Warging.” Aemon said, finally.

“That’s just a myth.” Catelyn said dismissively before realizing what she said, when Ned, Aemon and Talisa all looked at her in disbelief. “Yes, yes, I realize how ridiculous I just sounded, continue.”

“No!” Robb said, dragging out the word. “Warging? Timelines? Is someone going to explain what the hell is going on?”

“You did not say anything to him?” Catelyn asked, incredulously. She reminded herself that the boy she saw in front of her was actually a man and a king that did not need to listen to her anymore. Either way it was unwise to have not done it without alerting any of them.

“We thought that it was best if you explained things to him, seeing as you were the one with him for the majority of his last few years.” Sansa explained, walking into the room. A she saw him struggling to clean the blood she snatched the rag and continued to aid him. “And really Jon? Practicing without me?”

“Arya was excited.” He said, almost whining it. Catelyn allowed herself to smile as she knew even back then that Aemon could never truly say no to her youngest daughter. He got her a bloody sword for goodness sake!

“Wait, Arya is a Warg? Jon, you’re a Warg?” Robb asked incredulously.

“We all are Brother.” Sansa said, rolling her eyes with a smirk. “Do you think it a coincidence that we had a perfect number of Direwolves?”

“But there are seven Direwolves?” Robb said, brows furrowing in confusion before seemingly figuring it out looking at his mother in awe.

“Anyway.” Talisa said, changing the subject. “These have mostly sealed up.”

“Aye, like I said.” Aemon said, standing up before swaying on his feet. Wine with all that blood loss probably was not the best of ideas. Ned went to help him before getting glowered at and Sansa tucked herself under his arm.

“I will get him back to his room, maybe you both can explain to Robb and Arya what has happened? She will want an explanation as well.” Sansa said, as she obviously struggled under her cousin’s weight. Maester Luwin grabbed the other arm.

“What are we supposed to say about miraculously creating and healing wounds?” Catelyn asked, incredulously.

“That the Lord of Light will not be conducting anymore resurrections for anyone else.” Aemon slurred, as he was led away.

~~~

“They took it better than I thought they would.” Catelyn said, as she closed the door to Ned’s chambers. “Although, I made it clear that Robb would not be lying with Talisa under any circumstances.”

“I’m sure he appreciated hearing that talk from his mother.” Ned jested good naturedly.

“He was fine with it until Arya started making japes.” Catelyn said, blanching as she sat on the bed. “I swear Ned it is so unnerving that some of the children are adults and some are children still. It is throwing me off. The old me never would have thought of saying something like that in front of Arya, but I did! Meanwhile Sansa is getting increasingly upset with me for treating her as the girl of three and ten I remember her as.”

“We will get through this Cat.” Ned said stroking her hair. “We raised them, and we can help them get through this.”

Cat cocked an eyebrow (so that’s where Sansa picked it up). “I have a feeling we are talking about two different things, My Lord.”

“He hates me.” Ned said, dejectedly and she knew that he must be truly upset that he was speaking of the boy in her presence.

“Can you blame him?” Catelyn said, and she could tell that he assumed that she would try to comfort him in this but was surprised at her reaction. “I do not believe that Aemon hates you but if he does, he is more than justified in it. You gave him false hope for a decade and a half, to him more than two decades, with no intention of telling him the truth.”

“That’s not…”

“No. Intention.” Catelyn stressed, not allowing him to lie to her or more importantly, himself. “When were you ever going to have the opportunity to talk to him up at the wall as Hand of the King? You lied to us and while I forgive you, he needs to have the opportunity to be angry, Ned.”

“You forgive me?”

“I was upset at first but I understand why. Between what Tywin did to his siblings and what Joffrey and Cersei did to Robert’s bastards… The boy’s safety is what mattered.” Catelyn said, a bit reluctantly.

Ned sighed, “What did I do to deserve you…” He said before pulling her into a kiss. A few moments later he asked, “Why do you keep calling him Aemon?”

Catelyn hesitated before finally saying, “We did not have the best of relationships in our past life.” She said, trying to keep her voice neutral. “By thinking of him as the name his mother gave him instead of the one you did, I was hoping that it would help.”

“But that is not the name his mother gave him?” Ned said, eyes narrowed.

“Not according to him.” Catelyn said, “Apparently he spoke with her.”

“What!” He said, jumping up. She could tell that he planned to go confront the drunken passed out boy.

“Do not even think about doing what I know you are thinking about Eddard Stark!” Catelyn snapped, making him jump. “That conversation is between him and her. The only one they had!”

Catelyn remembered Edmure crying once because he couldn’t remember their mother’s face let alone voice. The fact that the boy finally got one with his mother should be his and his alone. She once made a promise to be a mother to him and although she did not follow through, she would not taint the only memory he had of his actual mother.

Ned looked at the ground and so Catelyn moved on to why she was truly there in the first place. “Besides,” She said, undoing the sash around her waist, I told Robb he was not allowed to lay with his wife, I hoped that it would not be the case with mine own husband.” She finished with her dress falling to the floor. “It has been near two years for me My Lord, I would have you tonight if you would find it agreeable?”

Ned seemed to look her up and down once before nearly tackling her to the bed, and Catelyn let out a girlish giggle loud enough that the Maids would be talking about it for another Fortnight. 

~~~

All of the children seemed to not be very happy having to wake up as early as they did the next morning, the hungover Aemon least of all. After their little talk, Arya, Robb and Sansa decided that it would be a good idea to spend hours into the night trying to learn how to Warg, so all of the children were in groggy moods as Bran was definitely _not_ a morning person. It was not helped that Rickon seemed to sense the fact and was deliberately being louder and more difficult to them.

Ned had been cursing about Lannister arrogance for near an hour, after word that they were within sight but taking their time. She must say Ned was taking the news that they would be dealing with Jaime Lannister well all things considered. She knew he was not happy to find out that not only did Sansa and Aemon trust the Kingslayer, they defended him. It was not sitting well with him.

“We welcome you to our home, Lord Jaime.” Ned said, as they all trailed into the court yard, in a scene that felt so familiar yet so removed at the same time.

Catelyn smiled at seeing Brienne of Tarth following behind the Kingslayer. Sansa’s tales of the bravery the Woman Warrior had shown and the fact she had kept her oath far past Catelyn’s own death meant she would always be welcome in Catelyn’s book. Although she wondered what could have happened to the two of them that they were apparently close enough to choose to marry each other.

Following them were Lord Manderly and his Granddaughters. Apparently it was a great exaggeration, the nickname “_Lord To-Fat-to-Sit-on-a-Horse.” _He was by no means a thin man but not so fat as the other northerners made him out to be. Directly behind him were his granddaughters. The brown haired one seemed to be about twenty but the younger was about the same age as Robb and Aemon. The green hair looked surprisingly good as well.

Finally the cart came and with it the “Prince”, “Princess” and her nephew. Catelyn almost physically recoiled as she saw her sister’s son. He looked much better than the last time she saw him. Despite her seeing him when he was a little bit older, now he seemed much more filled out and healthier. Her heart broke at the knowledge that what Sansa said was correct. Her sister and childhood friend must have been poisoning her nephew.

“We thank you for your welcome, Lord Stark.” Jaime said, with his signature arrogant grin. “My men have traveled far and after this they will again travel far, if it pleases you I would like to make sure they are taken care of. After that maybe we can begin introductions properly and get to the true subject of this trip.” He finished completely unsubtly.

Catelyn frowned at sure a queer way of doing things but knew that there must have been a reason for it. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Sansa and Brienne exchange subtle looks before her daughter started beaming. She assumed that it meant that the Maid of Tarth had joined them in the past.

“Of course.” He husband said through clenched teeth, barely trying to disguise his dislike of the man. “My steward shall make sure to help you get all of your men settled. In the meantime, Lord Manderly if you would join me in my solar, there are a few things that I would like to discuss.”

“Of course My Lord.” The man said, as the group started to disperse. She saw that Sansa had quickly gone to the Manderly girls no doubt to introduce them to her cousin.

“I expect you will be quite busy in the coming weeks, My Lord?” Wyman asked, trying to make conversation. “Between this party, the Tyrell’s and the King I expect Winterfell to be a full house.”

“The Tyrells?” Ned asked.

“Yes, My Lord.” Wyman said, “I received word that they arrived in White Harbor two days past.”

Ned and Catelyn exchanged panicked looks as they realized the response time of the Raven was no coincidence. That would need to be something that needed to be spoken about. “Yes well we are to become Kin so it is best we forge a relationship as soon as possible.” Ned quickly said as they reach the solar.

“What is it you need of me, Lord Stark?” Wyman asked as the door to the solar closed.

“Lord Manderly, I want to start out and say that what I am about to ask of you is very dishonorable.” Ned started and both Wyman and Catelyn were taken aback. Catelyn did not know what he was planning but it could not be good if he found it dishonorable.

“My… My Lord?” Wyman asked confused.

“Early this morning I received a message from the crown.” Ned explained. “The original plan was to have Prince Tommen and my nephew train under Jaime Lannister. However with the death of my foster father, my _good-sister_ has demanded that young Robyn Arryn goes back to the Vale with her. MY wife and I have reason to believe…”

“I have a feeling I know what you are about to say My Lord.” Wyman said, cutting him off. “I was going to allow Lord Lannister to tell you this but mine own Maester looked at the medicine he was sent with and found it was more of a slow acting poison.”

“That way my sister could keep the boy clung to her breast.” She said bitterly.

“Yes, that is what we were worried about.” Ned said, “We are worried about the boy’s wellbeing. I have drafted up a will for Jon Arryn. You are not required to do this but I trust you and…”

Ned trailed off as a smiling Wyman grabbed the quill on the desk, “Where do I sign as witness?”

“Here.” Ned said, “I have it written that Lord Yohn Royce will be acting as Regent until the Boy comes of age. He is a good man and Warrior, and I trust him. More importantly Lord Arryn trusted him.”

“Tis a shame.” Wyman said, “Squiring under the supervision of Tywin Lannister could give the boy some much needed backbone. Both him and the Prince actually.”

Inspiration hit Catelyn like a brick. “My Uncle Brynden still lives in the Vale.” She said, “Maybe we can have them squire under him? He will definitely help give them some backbone, kin or not.”

“The Blackfish would be a good choice, _if_ he is willing.” Ned said, nodding along with her idea. “Maybe we can send Bran as well. A friendship between the future Wardens of the East, West and brother of the Warden of the North could have lasting effects throughout the country in the years to come.”

Catelyn tensed at that thought. She felt bad about it and while she loved **_all_** of her children, she felt closest with Bran. Losing him for months to years on end would hurt. She pulled out of her own thoughts as she was distracted by Wyman

“Warden of the West, My Lord?” Wyman asked, in confusion.

Ned’s eyes widened in shock as he realized that he said a little bit too much. “As of right now, My Lord.” Catelyn said, covering. “Neither Lord Jaime nor the Imp have an heir of as of yet. With Prince Joffrey the Crown Prince the Wardenship of the West would be going to Prince Tommen.”

“Yes.” Ned said, thankful for her intervention. “The three boys will all be important going forward, so it is best they learn to get along now.”

Catelyn could tell the man didn’t believe her husband but nodded in agreement. “And the other thing Milord? You said that we needed to speak of numerous things.”

Ned scratched his neck and looked at Catelyn and she nodded. “The second thing w- I would like to speak of is a betrothal.” Ned said, and it was all Catelyn could do not to groan. Her husband was very incompetent at subterfuge.

“OH!” Wyman said, jumping up a little bit “You wish for one of my granddaughters to marry young Robb?”

“Actually…” Ned said, internally cringing. “It would be between one of them and my Bastard son Jon.”

As Wyman’s eyes narrow -not in anger but in confusion she noted- and Ned continued before his Bannerman could respond. “King Robert is on his way to Winterfell and I plan of asking to legitimize him _with_ my wife’s consent. After that I plan on giving him Moat Cailin, to develop a cadet branch of the Starks. Seeing as White Harbor is so close…”

“Of course My Lord.” Wyman said, smiling. “It would be an honor to join any of my family with one with Stark blood. But I assume that means that you won’t be pushing his claim then?”

“His claim, Lord Manderly?” Ned said, with a head tilt that Catelyn realized he passed on to their daughter.

Lord Wyman clarified, “His Claim to the Iron Throne, My Lord.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I have outlined next few chapters so hopefully that means that I will be able to get them out at a quicker pace. Also the next chapter was supposed to be part of this chapter so it most likely will be a little bit shorter. Also I am looking for a beta if any one is interested.


	7. Crone II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa deals with the Arrival of the Lannister's and gives Jon some advice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so Long, the holidays were hard.

"You're avoiding father.” Sansa said with a cluck of her tongue.

After the Lannister children arrived, she was given the task of making sure they were taken care of. She noticed that Jon quickly took off to his rooms. As soon as the children were settled, Sansa went to talk to her brother, barely losing Myrcella who seemed to want to build up a friendship with her. Robert must have been talking about a pairing between her and Joffrey already, so she was more than glad to have made sure that she was betrothed already. 

As mad as he was, and no matter how justified, she did not think that Jon would stay mad for very long. Even as children Jon never stayed angry long, as it tended to flash brightly only to fizzle out fairly quickly; the only one of the children would did not stubbornly hold onto grudges. The North Remembers indeed.

Unfortunately this led to him brooding, a lot. Gods, she forgot how much he brooded back then (back now?). It did not make her any more willing to spend time with him. This man could brood on the happiest day of his life! He did brood on what should’ve been the happiest day of his life, what should have been San… Sansa’s cheeks burned as she scolded herself, she understood why the lords did it. It sure as hell wasn’t Jon’s fault but it was hard sometimes to remember that.

“Well he’s not my father now is he?” Jon snapped, and Sansa could practically feel his pain. She knew it had nothing to do with his claim to the throne, but she could not help but agree that he at least deserved to know who he was. He was near a man grown and…

“He’s not!” A voice from behind her gasped. Both cousins jumped and exchanged eye contact. They really need to work on being more subtle. They turned around to see the Princess standing behind her.

“Princess?” They both said jumping up.

“If Lord Eddard is not your father than who is?” She said with a cocked eyebrow. Sansa always liked the Princess, she was smarter than Joffrey and not as useless as Tommen. She threw people off guard with the same naïve little girl act that Sansa had in Kingslanding that, unfortunately, did not start out as an act.

“Princess? How did you sneak up on me” Sansa asked, Arya had begun to teach her on how to tell if someone was sneaking up on her so the fact this little girl could was worrying. 

“Prince Oberyn gave me a tip here and there.” Myrcella said, shrugging nonchalantly.

“Prince Oberyn…” Sansa began, eyes narrowed before being cut off.

“Lady Sansa, please. Despite what I look like, I am not a child to be given pleasantries to get me to be sent away. Judging by the looks you gave Lady Brienne…” The golden haired princess said, and her face scrunched up at the mention of her new “Aunt”. “You are in the same boat that the two of us are in. So please, give me the courtesy of being straight with me and I shall do the same.”

Sansa’s eyes widened as she thought that this was probably the most she had ever heard the princess say at once. She grabbed her arm and dragged the girl in and shut the door. It probably did not look great that she was dragging a princess into a “bastard’s” room but at this point there was not much that Sansa cared less about.

“You remember?” Sansa asked.

“Yes! I’ve been trying to get your attention all morning. I woke up last night.” Myrcella said, once again giving her face a pinched look that reminded Sansa far too much of Cersei Lannister than her liking. “Walking in on my… Uncle Jaime and his new Betrothed.” 

“Wait Brienne was…”

“Yikes.” Jon said, cutting her off. “That must have…”

“It was!” Myrcella said, blushing and not meeting anyone’s eyes.

“What is the last thing that you remember?” Sansa asked, “I’m sorry Princess, when you died I was rather… disposed. I do not know the full details.” 

Myrcella grimaced and said, “Yes, Prince Doran mentioned that you had been married to Ramsay Snow. His reputation precedes him. I am sorry for what he did to you. What my brother did to you.”

Sansa gritted her teeth and swallowed down, she was more than what her abusers did to her. Not that anyone could tell. Her parents, the lords she had commanded, Sandor, Arya when she found out the full extent, all of them just looked at her as a victim. Jon and Brienne were the only ones who did not, and it took Jon quite a while before he stopped. Now this girl she barely knew was speaking to her about it? 

“Yes. Thank you.” She said, and Myrcella went into the tale of her time at Sunspear, and Sansa tried her best not smile at the looks that the girl had been shooting Jon’s way the entire conversation. She knew that Cersei had been in love with Rhaegar, and that Gendry seemed to have strong feeling for her sister and she wondered how much their parent’s generation would be repeated within the current one.

“What happened to Tommen?” Myrcella asked softly after her story. Sansa remembered how close the two younger children were, to the point where she could barely tell them apart. She met her brother’s eyes and they silently agreed to not tell her what he did.

“We- We don’t know the details.” Jon said, “But we know he died. There was a wildfire explosion and then your mother became Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.”

“And Trystane?” Myrcella said, not meeting either of their eyes. “I know as… as a bastard that his station was much above mine but…”

Sansa shook her head sadly and Myrcella let out an almost silent sob before straightening up. “Well this time we will not be allowing that to happen. To either of them.”

“Hopefully not.” Sansa said, “We have knowledge but we are not gods. We will do what we can.”

“Joff cannot sit on the Throne.” Myrcella said, “We both know what he is, better than most. What is the plan? The three of us and Brienne are all back here. How do you plan on stopping that?”

“There are actually eight of us back. You, Jon, Lady Stark, Brienne, my sister by law Talisa, Margaery Tyrell and Myself.” Sansa said, she held out her hand as she started counting of the list. Apparently Jaime did not come back judging by the looks that Brienne gave so they were still missing one person which was… disconcerting.

“Margaery is back?” Myrcella her interest stroked. Sansa really could not say she was surprised as she was married to her “uncle” and both of the girl’s brothers. “Wait that was only seven.”

“It’s… a long story.” Sansa said, rolling her eyes. She led the girl to Jon’s door. “One which we will explain once your father and mine meet. Now if you give us a moment, I need to speak with my brother.”

“Brother? I thought he said, your father wasn’t his father?” Myrcella said looking back at Jon.

“Myrcella!”

“Right! I’m leaving!” The girl said, as she left the room, sparing once last glance at Jon.

“You know,” Sansa began a few moments later as she sat on the bed next to him. “When you first told me about your parents, I thought there is no possible way that could be true.”

Jon looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yes.” Sansa said, “The first thing I though was ‘Jon is the only one who broods more than father, how did he not get that from him’”

Sansa smiled at the fact that her taciturn brother started to laugh. “He still…”

“Lied.” Jon finished for her, frowning. “I was a man grown, there was no reason to not tell me the truth; instead he might as well have tricked me into joining the Night’s Watch. You know I did not want the throne: Iron nor Northern.”

Sansa flinched at the reference. When the Northern Lords had elected him king, Jon had come to her and practically begged her to take the crown. She was not proud of her response - she'd exploded from a mix of fear and relief after dealing with Ramsay, anger that the lords elected Jon over her even though she helped win the battle, anger at Jon for not listening to her, and her own niggling doubt that Jon truly wished her on the throne, rather than simply feeling guilty for usurping a trueborn Stark. All of that, combined with finally feeling safe enough to express her actual feelings instead of insipid platitudes led to her viciously shutting him down, though she later apologized and truly felt badly about her harshness.. But it was not until Davos told her about Stannis’ offer that she finally calmed down a bit. 

“I know that.” She said, grabbing his hand.

“I’m trying hard to not hate him.” Jon said, looking ashamed and not looking her in the eye. “When I first found out about the truth, we had less than hours before the Walkers came. I knew I would never be able to deal with it. Now that I can….”

Sansa could see the pain on her brother’s face, and decided to cut in. “Can I tell you something?” at her brother’s nod she said, “I miss Littlefinger.”

“I do. I miss him.” Sansa said, deliberately making sure to look him in the eye. “He saved me, from the Lannister’s, from my Aunt Lysa. He taught me what he knew. Sometimes it is hard to forget that… But when I do, I remember what else he did.”

“Are you comparing our father to Littlefinger?” Jon asked indignantly, and Sansa had to concede that it was good that he was still referring to him as Father.

“No, I am saying the complete opposite.” Sansa clarified. “Those good things that Littlefinger did for me does not excuse all the horrible, _horrible_ things he did. Just like Father lying to you doesn’t drown out all the things he did to protect you.”

“Stannis once told me something similar.” Jon said before her was silent for a few moments before finally saying, “When did you get so wise?”

“I’ve always been wise. You’ve just been too stubborn to listen.” Sansa said, allowing Jon to let out a laugh. “I wanted to thank you for backing me up with father and my mother.”

“Of course.” Jon said, “We need to trust each other. I trust you…”

“Why do I feel as if there is going to be a ‘but’ at the end of that statement?” Sansa asked, remembering her father’s saying.

“There isn’t.” Jon said, exasperatedly. “It’s just me meeting my fate. If we are to put me on the throne, I am making you my Heir.”

“Me?” Sansa said trying not to yell before chuckling at herself. “Well this feels familiar.”

“Yes, you.” Jon chuckled, “Robb needs to be the Stark in Winterfell and Arya… Arya has too much North in her. If I am going to do this, I need to do this right. You being my heir is the right thing.”

“What about Daenerys? What about your Uncle?” Sansa asked.

“My Uncle has too much of his father in him. By the time we meet Dany she will not be able to have heirs, so it is counter intuitive.” Jon said.

“And to prevent the incident that made her barren, would not allow her to hatch her dragons?” Sansa said, when he did throw out the idea of stopping her from becoming barren. Considering how much he was harping on how important her dragons were, she saw his reasoning but it surprised her that Jon would be willing to sacrifice her like that.

“Aye.” Jon said nodding. “Now before we go to this meeting, why are we not calling Jaime Lannister 'Kingslayer'?”

“Welcome Lord Jaime, Lady Brienne.” Father said, as the future Lord and Lady Paramount of the Westerlands walked into the solar, followed by the Princess. “It is nice to see you well, Princess.”

“Yes, well…” Jaime started and Sansa nearly rolled her eyes at what was most certainly going to be the Lannister smart mouth. She saw that her father was on edge and made a note to herself to ask how the conversation Lord Manderly went.

“Let us not waste this meeting with japes, Ser Jaime.” Brienne said with a roll of her eyes. “We clearly have more important things to deal with.”

Jaime smirked reluctantly cowed, before saying “I am assuming Manderly told you about the Arryn boy?”

“Aye.” Father said, “But I’d like to hear it from you.”

“I convinced Robert and Arryn to allow me to take Tommen and Robyn as pages. Robert thought it was a good idea, Jon decided to do it behind his wife’s back.” Jaime said.

“And then Lysa murdered him because she would be in charge of him and could take him back.” Sansa said, exasperatedly. Her Aunt Lysa was literally the worst thing for her cousin, who improve exponentially after her death, even more so after Littlefinger’s.

“Lysa?” Jaime asked, in shock. Then he added, “Gods did I dodge that arrow.” Gaining a dirty look from her Mother.

“Yes. She admitted it to me the last time so it stands to reason that him dying the same way this time it is probably her. Well her and Littlefinger. She is obsessed with him and Robyn.” Sansa said, when Brienne gave her a look she rolled her eyes and said, “Yes I know I should have let you deal with him when you asked.”

“Most of the ‘medicine’ is poison.” Brienne said, “Nothing strong enough to kill but enough to weaken the body. The boy has improved considerably since he stopped taking it. Within days his skin turned back into a natural hue compared to the greyish tone that he has had since I met him.”

Brienne’s proceeded to list and explain all the effects of the ingredients of said potion and her mother’s face scrunched up as she said to herself in a whisper, “This sound familiar…”

“Enough,” Jaime said, as Brienne started seemingly rambling. As Brienne gave him a dirty look he continued. “Who all knows?”

“Myself, My Brother, My Mother, My Goodsister…” Sansa said, trailing off not knowing whether Talisa would still be considered her good sister. “Myrcella, Margaery, and Brienne. We are still missing one more person.” 

“Excuse me, My Lady but you know this how?” Brienne asked.

“I’ve told you numerous times just to call me Sansa!” She said, at the same time that Jon said, “The Old Gods sent my mother to speak to me to let us know what was happening.”

“Hmmph.” Jaime said, mostly to himself. “I never knew Arthur to follow the old gods.”

“What does that have anything to do with anything?” 

“Why would they send Ashara if she did not worship them?” Jaime asked, “Why not someone who did?”

“Well Ashara Dayne may not have followed the old gods…” Sansa said, the Wolf’s blood coming out. “But my Aunt Lyanna surely did.”

Shock appeared on Brienne, Myrcella and Talisa’s (who apparently had not been told by anyone) faces as they were able to piece together who his father was. The most interesting one though, was Jaime Lannister. His face quickly flashed between confusion, shock and guilt.

“Rhaegar,” Jaime croaked.

“Aye.” Ned said, angry. But before he could go off, Sansa said, “Maybe you should explain the day in the throne room, Ser Jaime.”

“What?” Jaime said, head snapping to her.

“I told her.” Brienne said, to him. Jaime sighed before explaining the full story of the day of the Sack.

“You fucking Idiot.” Her father said, to the shock of everyone there other than Jon.

“Ned!” Her mother exclaimed. 

“You told no one?” Ned exclaimed, searching through his desk for parchment. “Wildfire get stronger as time goes on! Do you know how strong - and more importantly, _volatile_ it is now? Who is in charge of Kingslanding?” he snapped.

“Renly.” Jaime said, meekly for the first time since Sansa knew him.

“Let us hope that…” Ned began, before Ser Rodrik knocked on the door.

“My Lord.” He said, looking around at the tension in the room. “We’ve spotted the Tyrells. They’re less than an hour out.”

“Aye. Get everyone ready.” Her father said, slight panic in his voice at the fact that the Tyrells somehow showed up with a day of being invited. Then Mother gasped at Ser Rodrik as if seeing him caused an epiphany.

“I know where I recognize that list of medicines.” Catelyn said, fear evident in her voice. “It is the same Medicine my father is taking.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Manderly cliffhanger will be resolved next chapter


End file.
